Warring Hearts
by Silver-crowned Valkyrie
Summary: Thranduil and Tauriel have only begun knowing each other. But now he plans on marching against Dol Guldur. And, as if persuading the dwarves to help him isn't hard enough, his will is put to the test when he faces the Nazgul. Touched by Morgoth long ago, will his spirit endure or will he fall to the clutches of Evil? (slight AU, ThranduilxTauriel, sequel to "Broken Glass") COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The noise and commotion in the council chamber produced by chairs being dragged lightly on the floor, robes whooshing around and voices chattering in low tones gradually faded, as the councilors took their seats and waited for the King to walk to his. Legolas was already there, but kept still and silent, his face maintaining a serious look, for he already knew the reason for this meeting.

The Elvenking entered with a quick stride and moved to the head of the council table. Now all sets of eyes were trained on him; everybody eagerly waited for him to speak.

Thranduil straightened his back and squared his shoulders, resuming his best and most imposing stance. "I called this meeting today between the council, the Commanders of the army and the Captains of the Guard, because I wish to address an important subject", he started in a loud and clear voice. "It concerns war".

A calculated glance around the elves present told him that most of them were not surprised by the notion. Were they not already at war, after all, with the enemy residing in their wood and attacking their borders?

Everybody kept looking at Thranduil, but their mouths remained shut, as they waited for their King to speak on. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on the hard wooden surface of the long table, propping himself on them and slightly leaning forward, as if he wanted to emphasize the gravity of the issue at hand. Thoughts of his plans had been swirling in his mind those past few days, but it was now time he made his intentions known to his people.

"I need not remind you of the current situation; you all know it very well and it would be a waste of time to repeat what is common knowledge. The enemy grows bolder and bolder. So far we have done our best to defend our land, but it seems to me now that defense alone is not sufficient. We must attack Dol Guldur".

He made a pause, allowing his words to sink in and settle in the minds of the elves before him. Soon concerned looks were exchanged and some murmurs were heard. At last Iaurvir, the head of the council, rose from his seat and spoke.

"My lord, if I may speak…" he started, and Thranduil allowed him to go on with a nod. "Although I am not a strategist, I believe that this endeavor might be perilous. Is our realm strong enough to undertake such a campaign? Great evil resides in the old ruins of Amon Lanc, and I do not consider it wise to challenge it. I fear that an attack on Dol Guldur might mark our own downfall", concluded the ever-reserved and skeptical Iaurvir.

But the Elvenking was not thwarted. "Iaurvir, my old friend", he addressed him with a small smile. "I had expected you would voice such concerns. And I agree with you; we alone are not strong enough to undertake such a venture. This is why I intend to rally our allies to our cause", he said and gave an unyielding and determined look to the councilor.

Iaurvir's expression changed at once. "If we could secure the aid of our allies, then yes, this endeavor might be feasible…" he spoke softly and then returned to his seat, showing that he wished to speak no more.

"Feren", the King turned to one of his Commanders. "What say you? The opinion of my officers interests me greatly".

The brown-haired ellon with the deceitfully youthful looks rose from his chair and bowed to his King. He glanced at the councilors and cleared his throat before speaking.

"Your army, my lord, is loyal and obedient to you. You know we shall follow your every command and order". His voice bore a dutiful, reverent tone, and his words were followed by a small bow of the head.

"I need neither such reminders nor flattery, Feren. I asked for your opinion", Thranduil responded in a stern tone.

The Commander looked at his King for a moment and then nodded. "I am confident to say that the army will unanimously agree with the plans of launching an assault on Dol Guldur. Not few are those who have voiced a desire to cleanse the old fortress from the filth festering there. Inaction and defensive stance have made the soldiers grow restless. A march southwards will give them purpose and fuel their hearts with hope. I myself support your intent fully, my lord".

"Thank you, Feren", said Thranduil with a soft smile.

"If I may, my lord?"

It was lady Meduithel who spoke this time, Iaurvir's wife and also a member of the council.

"Of course".

"I only wish to stress the importance of forging an alliance before we start making any plans of an attack. If we receive negative answers, then I am afraid we cannot think of starting a war on our own", she said in a meek but steady voice.

Tauriel, who had been till now sitting quietly and observing the conversation, turned to the lady that now had the floor. Her eyes were grey and her hair black as night. Her face was beautiful, but also soft and solemn, and there was deep wisdom in her gaze. About her was an air of confidence and knowledge. However, she maintained a low profile and was not keen on public feasts; Tauriel remembered to have only rarely seen her attend those. Apparently, Meduithel seemed to value undisrupted privacy more.

"I propose we send word to King Dain and King Bain; their lands lie very close to ours. And, of course, we should also ask for the assistance of Lothlorien. Celeborn's land borders upon Dol Guldur. He, at least, will not refuse to aid us, I believe", Meduithel said.

"My thoughts exactly, my lady", commented the King. "Let me also inform you, my good councilors, Commanders, and Captains, that lord Elrond has promised me the aid of Imladris, when the time to march comes. For we had the chance to discuss the matter during his stay here the past weeks, and we agreed on the necessity of a well-organized attack of our allied forces".

This news brought cheer to the gathered elves. Elrond was a keen tactician and Rivendell possessed a considerable military force. The promise of their aid made the possibility of the campaign reaching a positive outcome seem greater.

"This is excellent news, my lord", another councilor said, voicing the thoughts of everyone present in the room.

But then lord Iaurvir rose again. "What chance have we of persuading lord Dain and lord Bain to rally to our cause?" he asked in a thoughtful tone, directing his question to none in particular, but simply glancing around.

The cheerful mumble died down and everyone fell silent for a while. Even Thranduil sighed in frustration. He knew this would be the thorny leg of the negotiations. Convincing those two lords to aid Mirkwood would be challenging.

Tauriel then stood, deciding to voice her thoughts. "The King of Dale owes much to Mirkwood. It was with our help, as well as Erebor's, that they managed to rebuild their old city. They should not turn us away", she said with hope in her eyes and anxiously looked around for support. Some nodded, while others averted their gazes.

Thranduil watched her in silence, unmoving, with his hands tied behind his back and his lips drawn into a thin line. Although it did not show on his face, apprehension gripped his heart, for it was not only the issue at hand he was concerned about, but also the first formal reception of Tauriel as a Captain in the Guard, since her reinstatement the previous week. Her words and her behavior were of tremendous importance, for she had to win the hearts of the council and the court first; if they accepted her, then everyone would. He knew she was bound to be judged sternly for her every move, and he wished with all his heart that she would pass the test successfully.

"It may be so, young Captain. Dale does indeed owe us a lot, and they have pledged their allegiance to us. There is a good chance King Bain will assist us. But I am not so confident about the dwarven King", spoke another of the Commanders called Tinuven, and crossed his arms before his chest.

"Dale will commit to our cause", Legolas spoke up, rising from his seat. "For countless long years had Esgaroth depended on trade with our realm for survival. And as Captain Tauriel said, it was largely due to our support that Dale rose from its ashes. King Bain will not refuse his aid. But Dain of Erebor is another issue completely. But for our commerce and trading relations in the latter years, he still harbors a strong dislike for our kind. Furthermore, his people are under the constant threat of the Easterlings. It is highly unlikely he will accede to help us".

"We shall try and persuade him, nonetheless", intervened the Elvenking. "That is why I will not send word or even envoys to those realms, but I will visit them myself, accompanied by a select team of my choice. If they see the King of the Woodland Realm at their doorstep, they will be less inclined to close the door".

* * *

A while later and on her way out of the council chamber, Tauriel was intercepted by lady Meduithel.

"May I have a word, Captain?" she asked gently and touched her forearm, subtly leading her away from the main hall.

"Of course, my lady", Tauriel replied, but could not help the feeling of anxiety that crept in her heart. What would the councilor want with her? Was it perhaps to voice some displeasure towards her?

The lady smiled. "Follow me, please. I do not like crowded rooms much; I would rather share a cup of tea with you in my chambers".

An impulsive questioning look rose in Tauriel's eyes, but Meduithel answered it with just a brief cryptic smile, and walked on. Soon they were in the lady's private quarters and secure behind closed doors and away from prying eyes.

As soon as she was offered a seat, Tauriel could not suppress her curiosity any longer. "My lady?"

"You must be wondering why we are sharing tea all of a sudden…" she said with gleaming eyes.

"Indeed, my lady. I am not used to socializing with the noble elves of the council and court. I am but a soldier", she responded timidly.

"But perhaps you should begin to", Meduithel commented, with the glint never leaving her gaze.

Tauriel raised an elegant eyebrow in question.

"Since you are to become our Queen sooner or later, you will be expected to socialize with the court", she explained in a plain tone, as if what she had said was a matter of fact.

The young elleth gasped, feeling entirely unprepared for hearing the words she had just heard. With a nearly trembling hand she placed her cup on the table in front of her and looked at Meduithel, but was unable to utter a word.

The older lady smiled at Tauriel's reaction. "You need not feel uneasy in my presence, my dear. I have known Thranduil a very long time, and it is clear to me that he loves you, as you love him. He nearly lost himself in grief and agony while you were unconscious, and he would have forfeited his kingdom, had it not been for our Prince, Legolas".

Tauriel managed to recollect her senses and looked at the lady. "I will not deny the truth of our love, my lady. I did not know, however, that the council was aware. The King and I have spoken to none but Legolas so far…"

"The council is not aware. Not formally, as it is. There are rumors and suspicions of course, but nothing has been confirmed. But to me it is as clear as the light of day that you and Thranduil are in love; I need no official confirmation", the lady stated.

Before Tauriel had a chance to say a word, Meduithel spoke on, her face now resuming a more thoughtful expression. "In fact, I first thought our King might feel something deeper than just sympathy for the orphaned elleth he took in as his ward, when he decided to pardon your trespasses, lifted your banishment and offered to welcome you back to the realm. It was an act not of mercy, but of love", she spoke the last words in a warm voice. "But, of course, my assumptions remained simply so for years, and they were not confirmed until the recent events", she added.

Uneasiness crept again in the Captain's heart, as she was reminded of those unfortunate days. "I was too blind to see anything for what it truly was back then, my lady. My heart was broken, I was aching, and I could never consider returning to the Woodland Realm. All I knew was I had to go away, somewhere safe, where I would not be reminded of my grief, and leave what had happened behind", she said in a low and sorrowful tone.

"Yes, I understand. Your affection for Oakenshield's nephew quickly became known to most of us. You have a knack for unlikely romances, my dear, it would seem", Meduithel commented and offered another smile to Tauriel.

Instinctively, she smiled back. "I could never dream I would love the King. I knew he loved his late wife too dearly, too profoundly… But who can rule their hearts and decided whom to love and whom not to?" she wondered, and there was a hint of despair mixed with reckless abandon in her voice.

The lady wore a compassionate expression, but looked more collected than Tauriel. "We are all victims of our feelings, young Captain. And I am quite sure it had not been easy for Thranduil to come to terms with his own emotions. But the truth of his love is undeniable now. You see, he has the same look about him lately as he once did, when he first knew my sister", Meduithel concluded solemnly and kept her eyes trained on the red-haired elleth.

Tauriel inhaled sharply and held her breath, as realization struck her. "Your sister, my lady? Do you mean to say that the late Queen Lothrin was your sister?" she asked, wide-eyed and stunned.

"Indeed she was. Lothrin was my eldest sister", replied Meduithel with a sad smile, and finally lowered her gaze.

"I am so sorry for what happened to the Queen, my lady. Please take no offense in the nature of my feelings towards our King, for they are true and deep and pure", Tauriel hastened to speak and justify her standpoint, worried that the councilor might be opposed to her union with Thranduil.

But the gentle lady smiled and shook her head. "You need not worry, youngling. I hold no resentment towards your love. Lothrin would never have wished for her beloved husband to spend his eternal life in grief and mourning. Nearly two thousand years have passed since her death, and Thranduil has suffered profoundly. I would not begrudge him a second chance in happiness".

Thoughts of her visions came unbidden in Tauriel's mind. Lothrin had revealed her heart to her, and what she had told her was in agreement with Meduithel's words. The white lady would never wish for Thranduil to spend an eternity in grief and pain, but she would see him happy again.

"Thank you, my lady. Your words are like balm to my heart", whispered Tauriel in a broken voice, and struggled to hold back the tears that had formed in her eyes and threatened to spill. She felt deeply moved and lucky beyond expectation for having found such unexpected support and understanding in the face of Lothrin's sister. "But I knew not of your relation to the late Elvenqueen, although I can remember you being a member of the council ever since I was brought into the Elvenking's halls".

"You are young, Tauriel. Lothrin died long before you were born. The King was so shattered and broken afterwards that he asked of us never to speak of his late Queen, for even her name awoke the excruciating pain of eternal sundering in his heart. The pain for me was also too great, for I had loved my sister dearly, and her loss has been a very heavy burden to bear all these years. So, we never spoke of her again…" said Meduithel and sighed, while her now blurry gaze was for a moment lost in the greenish content of her cup.

But soon she lifted her face to look at Tauriel, and there was again a small smile upon her graceful features. "You are not the only one amongst our people who know not of my relation to Lothrin. In fact, only the eldest among us now know of it, or those who have close dealings with the council. Many young elves, like yourself, have no idea that she and I were sisters", the lady explained.

"I understand", said Tauriel. "Thank you, my lady, for sharing this with me. I must confess I now feel very much relieved to have your understanding and receive your kindness".

"What are we elves in this world if not soothers and advisers, bearers of memory and wisdom? Our purpose is to guide the young. In this light I offer you my help and counsel. Shall you ever need it, hesitate not to come to me", Meduithel spoke softly.

"My lady, I have done nothing to deserve such kindness!" Tauriel cried.

"Oh, but you have… You are healing our King, and with him our forest, our home. Do you think this for little?"

Tauriel fell silent, but a small smile rose to her lips and gave some color to her cheeks.

"Now, some may say you only wish to rule beside him, and that you sought for an opportunity to crawl up to the throne. Malicious intent may be found even amongst the Eldar, unfortunately. Rarely so, but still", the lady said, her face growing now more serious.

"I know I may not be accepted by all. After all, my past is not truly forgotten. I understand it will not be easy for everyone to believe that the treacherous elleth, who had once threatened her King's life, is now very much in love with that King, and he with her. But I am determined to fight for our love, and do my best to stand worthily by his side. Thranduil and I have come a very long way, battling our own feelings and reservations, and I am not about to give all this up now, simply because there may be some who will not like me", Tauriel spoke in determination and resolve. There she was now, defending her love and her queenly future, whereas some time ago she could not even imagine wearing the crown.

"It is as you say, and I admire your strong and unyielding nature. The generosity and gentleness of your heart is plain for me to see. And I know you will make a good and gracious Elvenqueen, Tauriel. I want you to know that I will be your ally in this, as long as you stay true to your purpose. And worry not, for at least the council will be on your side; I have the ear of every councilor. If Lothrin's sister supports you, then they all will, eventually", Meduithel spoke reassuring words to Tauriel.

"Thank you, my lady. I know not what else to say… I am bereft of words to express my gratitude towards you", whispered the young Captain in a sentimental voice.

"There is no call to say more. I am glad that an understanding has passed between us", she said and touched the other elleth's hand gently. "And now, how about finishing that tea before it gets too cold for my taste?"

* * *

In the early evening Tauriel was standing beside Thranduil on the balcony of his chambers. They had been watching the sundown, and warm, heavy cloaks were draped on their shoulders, for they were still in the heart of winter and the chill was biting, and it felt as if it penetrated their skin and reached to their bones.

The trees in the distance were naked of leaf and their branches snow-covered. Silence reigned at this hour, and it helped Tauriel achieve some peace of mind. She lazily leaned against her lover's shoulder, and her slight change in stance attracted his attention.

He turned his face towards her and dropped a light kiss on the top of her head. She lifted her eyes to look at him, and they both smiled at each other.

"I love this… All of this. This peace, this forest, this moment… you. You above all else", she whispered to him tenderly.

Thranduil smiled fondly at her words, and responded by bending his head lower and claiming her lips in a kiss, and snaking his arm around her slender waist, holding her closer still.

"As do I", he murmured, and breathed the scent of her deeply.

She rested her head on his shoulder again, and they stayed like this in silence for some time, before Tauriel chose to speak again.

"The lady Meduithel spoke to me today".

The Elvenking drew a little apart so as to look her in the eye. His gaze held unspoken question.

"She approached me after the council meeting and we had a cup of tea in her chambers".

"That sounds quite unexpected. Well, what did you talk about?" Thranduil asked in a rather impatient tone.

Tauriel turned to fully face him, and decided to avoid unnecessary prologues. "She told me she is Lothrin's sister".

The Elvenking sighed and nodded, lowering his gaze.

"How come you never told me of this?" Tauriel demanded.

"It never occurred to me. It has been so long since Lothrin's death, and my relations and exchanges with her sister have always been rather formal. I mostly maintained a contact with her husband, Iaurvir, since he is the head of the council. But none of us has ever spoken of Lothrin after she died. It seems now, after all, that her relation to my late wife is of little importance", Thranduil answered her question. "The necessity of mentioning it to you never occurred to me", he repeated, his gaze seemingly unfocused and lost in thought. But then he faced her again and his expression became intense. "What did she tell you?" he asked, and Tauriel felt his penetrating pale eyes examining her.

Her face resumed a soft smile, for there was truly no need for him to be alarmed. "Nothing worrisome. On the contrary, she told me that she knows we love each other, and that she is on our side. She offered me her support and promised me help and advice, should I need it. All in all, my impression of her was excellent, and I was most surprised to find such an unexpected ally in her. But you know her far longer than I do, mell nin. What is your opinion of her?"

The Elvenking's face relaxed, and he took a few steps towards the doors. Tauriel followed suit, and they both entered the warm chamber, leaving the winter cold behind them and out of the room.

"Meduithel is the wisest among the councilors. She is of gentle and quiet nature, and keeps herself out of the spotlight. She also harbors a profound dislike for gossip and falseness. She is trustworthy, I can say with certainty, but she is often cryptic and one cannot know the workings of her mind easily. It is best to be on her good side, I believe", Thranduil replied, and then moved to sit on the sofa in front of the lit fireplace. Tauriel sat beside him. "I never held a doubt that she would soon understand what is going on between us, and it is a good thing she supports our union. She has great influence over the rest of the councilors, and her allegiance in this matter can promise us we will not be met with opposition by them".

"This is what she told me as well", Tauriel commented.

"Good. Then there is no need to worry about that", he spoke softly and let his hand caress her cheek. She leaned closer to him and drew the cloaks tighter around them, attempting to warm herself and her lover until the winter cold dissipated from their bodies.

A long moment went by in silence, during which they simply relaxed in each other's embrace, each lost in their own thoughts. The only ambient sound was the crackling of the firewood as the flames consumed it.

"So, we are going to war?" murmured the elleth after some time.

"Perhaps… If we manage to ensure the help of our allies", replied the King.

"You are really determined to do this, are you not?"

He shifted in his seat and came to look at her. "I am".

Tauriel smiled. "I am proud of you".

A playful smirk rose on Thranduil's face. "Are you now?"

"Yes! You have no idea how changed you look, my love. How lively and energetic and engaged with the world… How alive!" she breathed and looked at him with glistening eyes.

His smirk turned into a faint, almost timid, smile. "I know. I feel the change myself. And it is all thanks to you, and your presence in my life", he whispered to her.

The young Captain brought her hand up to gently cup her King's cheek. "I have every intention of remaining in your life, Thranduil… as long as you want me in it", she spoke to him fervently.

Words eluded him for an appropriate answer, for he was overwhelmed with emotion at that moment, and all he could do was claim Tauriel's lips in a heated and needy kiss. The elleth responded eagerly, and they kissed to their hearts' content, until the passions were satisfied and the worries eased.

"This war… It is our only choice, if we are ever to truly know days of peace again", he murmured against her hair.

Tauriel sighed. "It would have to come to that, eventually".

"Yes. But I cannot sit idly and wait for the enemy to draw first blood. In fact, they have already done so, given their frequent attacks and the nigh uncontrollable infestation of our forest. My patience is waning; we must attack them now, if we are to have any chance of catching them unawares", he said in a steely voice.

"I doubt our cunning enemy will ever truly be unprepared for an assault. They have eyes and ears everywhere… And there is a long path to walk before we begin our march southwards. If only Dain and Bain aid us!" she wished.

"This is true. The success of our plans depends largely on their assistance. I will think about whom I should choose to accompany me in the negotiations in the following days, and I will send word to these lords, for them to be prepared to receive us and talk", Thranduil made his thoughts known to her.

"Have you any idea as to whom you will choose?" she inquired.

"One or two councilors… And maybe Feren or Tinuven, for I think a Commander of the army might be useful and insightful if we are to discuss tactics…"

"I understand. But how about Legolas? Will he not come with you?"

"Legolas must stay here. Someone has to govern this realm in my absence, and none I trust more than my son. It is his right as well as his place and duty to rule in my stead", Thranduil replied and Tauriel shook her head in agreement. "There is someone else I would have accompany me… and that is you, dearest", he added and raised one thick eyebrow as he uttered the last words.

"Me? Of what help could I ever be?" she wondered, surprised by his words.

"You are clever, and can often see pathways the rest of us are blind to. Your face is also a friendly and welcome one in the mountain King's halls. Perhaps your presence in the negotiations might better the predisposition of Dain towards us. Furthermore, it is time you began training for your future queenly duties", the Elvenking told her.

Tauriel thought on his words for a second and then nodded. "I see… I will do my best to be of help", she offered him in earnest, but then suddenly her expression changed into a mischievous one. "Or, at least, if the negotiations fail, I will be there to calm your anger and take you in my arms at night to soothe your aching pride", she teased him.

Her lover laughed heartily. "You…!" he exclaimed and lunged forward, pinning her down on the sofa with the weight of his body. Tauriel allowed herself to submit to his advances, and laughed softly. "You will be my undoing…" he murmured in a throaty voice and brought his face down to kiss her.

Tauriel's lips parted for him, and their tongues joined in a battle for dominance. A hand of his threaded through her soft locks and then glided lower, along the column of her neck and over the curves of her shoulder and breast, causing both their breaths to quicken.

"How about soothing another aching part of mine now?" he whispered seductively in her ear and pressed his lower body against her.

A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she nodded her willing compliance. All thoughts of war were soon forgotten, as they made ardent love well into the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Well? What does he say?"

Legolas stood in front of his father with an impatient look upon his face and his arms crossed before his chest. Thranduil was seated behind his desk, brow furrowed and attention focused completely on the parchment before him.

Letters and messages concerning Mirkwood's wish to engage in negotiations over war had been sent to the lords of Dale and Erebor during the previous weeks, and after some long days of waiting, the Elvenking held now their answers in his hands.

After a brief moment of silence, the King finally lifted his eyes to his son. "Dain says he will be ready to receive us by the beginning of spring, so that we may negotiate. But he discloses nothing as to his disposition". He put the letter down with a grunt. "Those dwarves and their secrecy!"

Legolas' face relaxed. "At least he has agreed to talk. Now that is something, for a dwarf", he commented. His father gave him a half-smile. "But is spring not quite far still? Why will he not receive us sooner?"

"It was my request that we may meet at that time, so that we will have time enough to visit lord Bain first. I want to go to Dain with the allegiance of Dale secure in my hands", Thranduil explained.

"I see. You choose to play your cards wisely, ada", said the Prince and moved to pour himself some wine, and refill his father's empty goblet.

"Of course. If I go to Erebor with the promise of help from Dale, then Dain will hopefully look upon our cause with less stubbornness and suspicion. The prospect of a greater army will perhaps prompt him to join us as well", said the Elvenking and drank from his wine.

"Well, I guess it remains to be seen", sighed Legolas and mirrored his father's move. "What about the negotiating party? Who will you choose to come with you?" he then asked with interest.

"Iaurvir and Meduithel, Tinuven and Tauriel. I am almost decided on them, but who would you suggest?"

"I agree with the choice of Meduithel. My aunt is wise and soft-spoken, and with her subtlety and persuasiveness she manages to have things go her way. Tinuven is also intelligent, and a better tactician than Feren, although a bit rasher than him. I would choose either of the two. Tauriel… Ah! I can see why you want her with you. Presenting the future Elvenqueen already, father?" Legolas asked in a teasing tone and chuckled.

But Thranduil did not lose his calm, and he maintained a serious façade. "Legolas! We are discussing matters of import now. Do not degrade the gravity of them with foolish comments. I chose Tauriel mainly because she is a friendly face to the dwarves of Erebor. Need I remind you of her dalliance with that dwarf, Kili, Thorin Oakenshield's nephew? Men may be forgetful, but dwarves are not. She is liked in Erebor, and I count on that for gaining some sympathetic looks and more receptive ears there".

The Prince frowned. He did not like to be reminded of Kili, whom Tauriel had chosen to give her affection to at the time, when he, too, had feelings for her. If only he knew back then that his own father was also pining for the very same elleth.

"Of course. I should have thought of that. You are right, father. Her presence in Erebor might be of help", he said and Thranduil nodded. "But I am not very fond of Iaurvir as a choice".

"Why so?"

"He is way too reserved of late. I do not think his skepticism will do much to promote our cause", Legolas replied.

"Now here is where you are wrong, ion nin. I need Iaurvir's skepticism as much as I need Tinuven's impulsiveness. He is old and experienced, and his mind excels in calculating all possible dangers and outcomes. Furthermore, he has taken part in countless negotiations over the years, which had usually resulted in favorable terms for our side. I consider his presence necessary", the Elvenking countered.

The Prince shrugged. "I respect your opinion, my lord father, and I will say no more".

Pleased, Thranduil nodded and came to stand in front of his son. With a smile he placed one hand on the younger elf's shoulder and spoke.

"I leave the rule of my kingdom in good hands", he said softly and his eyes shone.

A reserved smile rose on Legolas' face. "Thank you, ada".

The two ellyn then took their goblets and moved to Thranduil's inner chamber, where they sat in front of the fireplace.

"How about Galadriel and Celeborn? Have you written to them yet?" Legolas wondered.

The Elvenking sighed. "No, not yet".

"Why?"

Thranduil averted his gaze. "I have not seen Galadriel in centuries. In fact, the last time we met was under difficult circumstances. Shortly after your mother died, I traveled to Lorien to seek her counsel and receive answers. I was so broken and embittered by the answers I was given then that I inwardly promised to myself never to set foot in the Golden Wood again", he said and his face grew grim and his gaze distant.

The Prince's interest was suddenly picked, for he knew nothing of his father's visit to Lothlorien so long ago. "That is a grave thing to say… But I fail to understand you completely. What answers do you speak of?"

"Answers considering the fate of your mother. Galadriel had me look into her mirror, and this is how I first knew of our eternal and irreparable parting. Her words then confirmed what I saw. I left Lothlorien with a heavy heart. Inadvertently, I harbored resentment towards the lady, although Lothrin's fate was not her fault. But perhaps I held a grudge towards her for not appearing in time to save her… Countless times I have wished things had gone differently…", he said with a sigh, his voice falling to a whisper in the end, and he sank in his seat, casting his eyes low.

Legolas' countenance became a solemn one. He remembered his father's narration of the death of his mother, and how Galadriel emerged in the battlefield just in time to repel the dragon and save Thranduil, but not Lothrin; it had already been too late for her. Sorrow fell upon father and son now, as did every time the subject of Lothrin's death was brought up in conversation.

After an interlude of silence, the Prince decided to speak. "Or you were too blinded by pain and grief that you could not see the truth and simply needed to put the blame on someone. But you do realize yourself this grudge is unreasonable… Why hold on to it after so long, father? Reconcile with the past, resolve all unresolved issues. It is the only way for you to move on in a healthy way. And, if not for yourself, do it for Tauriel. She deserves the better version of you", he said in a quiet voice, which was not void of wisdom.

Thranduil was looking at his son closely while he was speaking. "Your words ring true, ion nin. I would blame Galadriel, I would blame myself for not saving Lothrin, for surviving and not dying in her stead… It took me too long to realize it was your mother's decision that shaped her fate, and no one would have a say in her choice, for it was a choice dictated by love and love alone", he admitted. "But these dark and lingering thoughts have only brought misery upon me. I have lived in isolation with my secrets and my grief for far too long. I shall write to Galadriel, and once in Lorien, aside from the negotiations – which I believe will be smooth enough – I will seek to resolve my issues", he stated and then emptied his glass.

Legolas nodded, pondering for a while his father's words. It pleased him to see that his father had truly decided to change his ways. Finally, a small smile appeared on his handsome face, and he said, "I suggest you visit Lothlorien last, after you are done with the negotiations in Dale and Erebor".

"Yes, I think so as well. I will be done with our northern neighbors first, and then I will visit Celeborn and Galadriel in Caras Galadhon", Thranduil agreed.

"Will you go to Imladris too?"

"I consider it unnecessary, since Elrond has already promised me his aid. But, once I have returned to Mirkwood after the journey across the realms, you may pay a visit to the valley, so as to formally secure the alliance… and also get a chance to see your loved one. What say you?" the Elvenking proposed with a grin.

Legolas' eyes glistened and a bright smile lit his face. "I could never refuse!"

Father and son laughed softly, and yet another refilling of their goblets followed.

"When do you think we will be ready to march southwards?" the Prince asked, as he savored the taste of his wine.

"If all goes well, I estimate we will be ready by late spring or early summer. It will be good time for a campaign", the King answered.

"Indeed", said Legolas and remained thoughtful for a while, until his face resumed a questioning look. "Father…?" he began with a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"What is it?"

"Should we not ask the White Council for counsel? They oversee the preservation of peace in Middle Earth and their role is to unite and direct-"

"I will not have dealings with wizards", Thranduil interrupted his son abruptly. "I do not want them to meddle in my affairs", he spoke under a furrowed brow.

"They are not solely your affairs, father. You seek to rally all those realms in an expedition against Dol Guldur. The voices of the wise should be heard", Legolas insisted.

"They will be heard. Are not Elrond and Galadriel members of the White Council? Their opinions are enough for me. I need neither Saruman altering my plans nor Gandalf poking his nose where it does not belong!" the Elvenking bellowed.

The Prince grunted in discomfiture, but said no more and resumed sipping his wine, wishing to kindle his father's anger no further.

* * *

It was a chill dawn in late winter, when the Elvenking with his small host started for Dale, after all necessary messages had been sent and received, and all appropriate preparations and plans had been made. The wintery sun shone brightly through the clouds and lent some warmth to the elves, but the wind blowing reminded everyone of the winter's bitter cold.

The city of Dale was not located far away, and they would be there after a day's ride. A few guards and servants accompanied their King and his party. However, danger was not expected to be encountered in these northern parts of the wood. The orc and spider infestation was far worse in the southern regions.

Thranduil rode to the front, and by his side was Tinuven on his horse. After them came Iaurvir with his wife, Meduithel, and Tauriel. All of them were dressed in sturdy, riding attire and had warm cloaks on their shoulders. The King wore his wintery crown upon his head, and his cloak was clasped at the base of his throat by a silver brooch; this was all the adornment he wore.

As the small company quickly left the Elvenking's halls behind, soon lively chatter arose among its members. They were well-rested, and the sun lifted their spirits even higher. Furthermore, they were riding with purpose, and their minds were turned to the conversations that would take place in the coming days, and they wondered what their outcome would be.

"I am quite sure King Bain will have made ready a grand reception for us", said Tinuven in his deep voice and with a grin on his face.

He was a tall and well-built ellon, of mixed Sindarin and Silvan descent. His hair was dark, a shade of brown that edged upon black, and neatly adorned with thin braids along the sides of his face. His features were strong, yet elegant, with an arched brow and a straight nose. Although he was nearly three thousand years old, he was still unmarried. Rumor had it that he pined for an elleth of Lothlorien, who did not return his feelings, but Tinuven himself had never confirmed those rumors.

"It will probably be so. But I care not for vanity now; I would rather see my plans realized", Thranduil commented dryly. "I hope old age has not clouded lord Bain's mind".

"Fortunately for us, there is also his son, Prince Brand", Iaurvir intervened, who had listened to the conversation and now brought his horse forth, wishing to take part in it. "He is still young, and has proved himself to be a keen warrior, but he also possesses a mind for politics. I believe he will see our intent is right and just, and he will convince his father to aid us, in case the latter turns out reluctant to do so".

"But I also hear he is not fond of war, no matter his valor and skill with a sword", said Tinuven. "Perhaps he will think twice before sending his men to battle".

"You are both right in what you say", the Elvenking spoke. "But if Brand is as good a politician as he is a warrior, he will see it is to their benefit if they join us, and thus stay in my good graces, as the future King of Dale", he said with a grunt and with a furrowed brow.

"Oh yes, nobody would want to risk invoking the wrath of the Elvenking!" chimed the Commander in an attempt in jest.

The King gave him a sharp side-glance. "Are you mocking your King, officer?" he asked, but when he saw the perplexed and ashamed look on Tinuven's face, he laughed. "Come on now, Tinuven, cast aside that embarrassment from your face, for it does not become you! I spoke in jest, as did you".

The dark-haired ellon lowered his gaze and smiled. "Yes, my lord", he said in reverence.

Iaurvir watched the exchange with a soft smile, and then glanced backwards to his wife, who was at the time having a quiet conversation with Tauriel.

"I must admit, Tauriel, I was quite surprised to learn you would come with us", the lady said.

"I, too, was surprised when the King asked for my services in this endeavor. I fear my experience with negotiations is minimal, at best", Tauriel admitted with a weak smile. But for the lady's kind words and reassurance, she still could not shake the feeling of uneasiness that engulfed her when in her presence.

"But I am sure his choice is not void of purpose", Meduithel said and raised an eyebrow, peering at the other elleth.

Tauriel looked back at her. "Our king has his reasons for his choices…"

"This is a good opportunity for you to watch and learn, young Captain, for in the future you might be asked to preside over negotiations and deal with hard-headed and demanding delegates", Meduithel said in a guarded tone, careful not to speak too loudly for others to hear. However, her husband's keen elven ears caught her words, and he began wondering whether the rumors that were going around in the King's court were true after all.

"Yes, my lady", Tauriel spoke in nigh a whisper and lowered her head.

Meduithel regarded her for a moment, and then turned her gaze into the distance, falling silent for a while.

"You know, you remind me of Lothrin a bit", she suddenly said. Tauriel turned to her with surprised and questioning eyes. "She never dreamed of or wished to become a Queen... And at first, she was reluctant and reserved, just like you", Meduithel explained.

"But she had been married to the Prince of the realm for a long time… Surely she had time to think of her queenly future and adjust?" the red-haired elleth asked with a measure of uncertainty in her voice.

"That is true, yes… In time she accepted her future and her role. But she never craved titles or yearned for power. She remained simple at heart, just like you. And that is why she made a wonderful Elvenqueen", the lady said with a bittersweet smile and turned her full-of-meaning gaze to Tauriel.

The young elleth's lips trembled and her voice faltered, as Meduithel's words sent a shiver down her spine.

Seeing her reaction and wishing not to cause her more unease, the lady gave her one last smile and then spurred her horse to a quicker trot.

* * *

At high noon they stopped to have lunch and rest for a while. They had reached the edge of the forest, and Dale was only a couple of hours far from there. They were due to arrive in the city in the afternoon.

A few fires were lit and over them food was now being cooked. Meduithel sat close to her husband, and the couple seemed unwilling to engage in public conversation for the time. Commander Tinuven remained close to the King, who was still engaged in a lively chat with him. Tauriel decided to sit alone and opposite them as she ate, and she silently watched her lover.

Thranduil was in a fine mood, apparently. He welcomed his officer's chatter and banter, appreciating his jokes and responding with his own. He laughed at times and his eyes twinkled. Tauriel's heart was warmed by his sight, and she ardently wished for his smile to never leave his face.

At one point he turned his face towards her, and their eyes locked. Raising his arm, he called to her. "Captain Tauriel! Come over here and join us".

She obediently complied, and went to sit in the company of the two ellyn. "My lord King… my lord Commander", she greeted them with a small bow. Tinuven gave her a rather indifferent look, void of any kind of emotion, and resumed eating his broth. Thranduil, on the other hand, smiled warmly at her.

"You should not have chosen to sit on your own", the King said.

"I did not wish to disturb you, my lord", she said meekly, knowing that she had to keep formal in front of the Commander.

"Would you refuse my invitation?" he asked in mock-seriousness, teasing her.

"Never, my lord".

His face resumed a softer look. "You are a member of this company, Captain. I would not have you feeling lonely or marginalized", he told her in a gentle tone, striving to hide the true affection he felt for her.

"Our King is gracious and forgiving, Captain. You had better keep that in mind", Tinuven interjected a comment in a rather hard tone, as he put his now empty bowl aside.

 _Oh, but he is so much more than that_ , thought Tauriel, but of course refrained from voicing her thoughts. "I do not forget it, lord Tinuven", she simply said and looked him in the eye.

The dark-haired elf nodded. "Good", he said.

Tauriel watched him closely, but could not detect any ill will in his stance or countenance. His loyalty to his King was known and undisputed, so he probably only wished to protect the King's interest, she speculated. She could think of no reason why he should feel any kind of personal animosity towards her, so she decided to allow her mind some peace and set the worry aside.

"Now, there is no need to refer to past issues and events", said Thranduil, directing his words to Tinuven. "I have passed judgment and made my decision on the matter, which ought to be respected by all. Captain Tauriel is an elf of the Woodland Realm, and my subject, an equal amongst equals. And I would have none of my subjects suffer any kind of unjust implications or insult", he spoke in a stern voice.

Tinuven's ears turned red in abashment and he hung his head. "My lord, I meant no offense. Forgive me if my words sounded so. You know I can sometimes be rash. Captain Tauriel has been well accepted since her return to the wood and her reinstatement. I meant no disrespect", Tinuven apologized to his King. "Forgive me, Captain", he then told Tauriel and bowed his head.

"There is nothing to forgive, Commander. I understand what prompted you to speak as you did, and it was not unjustified. I am glad beyond description to have received the friendship and benevolence of all in the realm, and above all yours, my lord", she said and turned to Thranduil as she spoke the last words.

The Elvenking rose to his feet, signaling the conversation was over. "I have heard enough from both of you. I declare this issue resolved, and no more is to be said about it. Now on your feet, soldiers. Let us get going and reach King Bain's halls before nightfall".

* * *

"The Elvenking! The Elvenking is coming!"

It was a small peasant girl who first saw Thranduil and his host reaching Dale, and she rushed to announce the news to the people.

The sun was just about to set when the elven assemblage galloped into the beautiful city of Men. They were met with joy and cheer by the residents, who had gathered to watch those magnificent creatures that elves were to them. Soon enough they were greeted by representatives of the palace, who led them away from the crowd and towards their master's halls.

After their horses had been taken care of, Thranduil and his company were shown into the throne room, where a guard announced their arrival.

Everyone stepped aside to let him pass, as the Elvenking emerged from the shadows and into the brightly lit hall. Intricate decorations of silk ribbons and gold emblems adorned the columns and the arches, while all of Dale's nobility were present, dressed in their finest clothes. Thranduil let his gaze sweep over the crowd in mild indifference, trying not to look too intimidating or cold and arrogant. However, this was difficult a feat, for with his towering height, piercing eyes and long, flowing, silver hair he presented a sight that equaled magic to most of the men, who had never seen an elf before, all the more their King. Glances of awe and marvel were directed towards him, glances that only served to fuel his feeling of supremacy further.

Behind him followed Tinuven and Tauriel, who represented Mirkwood's military, and after them walked Iaurvir and Meduithel, members of the Woodland Realm's nobility. Even though the elves were not dressed in their finest, but were still in their riding garb, they were deeply admired by the gathered people.

At the end of this hallway stood King Bain's throne, and upon it sat the elderly King. He rose to greet the elves, not without his back giving him some pain and discomfort in the process.

King Bain was in his late seventies, and, although he had never been an exceptionally handsome man, old age favored him with graceful and kindly looks. Although he was not fat, he could not be called thin either, and he was neither tall nor short. Thick white hair fell to his shoulders in waves, and his head refused to show any sign of balding, even at this age. His golden and ruby-set crown made him look truly regal, and on his shoulders a heavy woolen cloak in a dark shade of brown was draped, which was trimmed with fur along the collar and hem. A golden chain hung about his neck, and he wore a couple of rings on his fingers. As he took in his sight, Thranduil reminisced upon the King's father, Bard, who had always been a man of simpler taste and cared not for finery or jewels. Good life and riches had made his son, Bain, turn out a bit different, apparently.

"Thranduil, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm, I am honored to receive you and welcome you in my modest halls", said Bain and attempted a bow, which, to his dismay, caused more pain in his back.

Thranduil answered with an agile and graceful bow. "The honor is mine, King Bain", he said, going on with the typical and necessary pleasantries.

"Alas, the passing of time has not been as kind and forgiving to me as it has been to you, Elvenking!" Bain jested and let out some short laughter, which sounded more like a snort to the elves.

Beside him Prince Brand sighed. He was standing rigid and in silence, allowing the Kings their exchange. But the sight of his elderly and ailing father grieved him, and he secretly envied the everlasting youth and beauty of the elves.

"But come now, you must be tired from your journey and have no need to listen to the complaints of an old man!" Bain said with a good-natured grin, and then turned towards his son. "Allow me to introduce to you Brand, my son and heir, and his wife, Aelswith".

Thranduil turned his eyes to the younger man, relieved for not having to comment on Bain's old age. Now, Brand was an entirely different sight to look upon, for he looked little like his father, when the latter was in his youth. Having inherited his mother's colors and grace, Brand was a fair-haired man, quite tall and with symmetrical facial features. In a way, he reminded Thranduil of Bard. At around forty years of age, Brand looked at the peak of his strength.

The Prince took a step forward and bowed reverently to the Elvenking, who returned the notion with an inclination of his head.

"You are most welcome here, my lord Thranduil, as you have always been a friend of my people and my grandfather, Bard the Dragonslayer", he said. His wife beside him offered the Elvenking a curtsy and kept her eyes low.

"Thank you, Prince Brand", said Thranduil, maintaining his serene façade, and then looked at Bain. "Allow me to introduce to you the elves that accompany me", he spoke on and proceeded to present his companions to their hosts.

After all introductions had been made, all pleasantries said and gifts of good will exchanged, the King of Dale offered food and wine to the elves. For this purpose, the feasting hall was appropriately prepared and decorated, and the elves were given high seats, which allowed a great view of the dance floor. Music and song and lively chatter soon filled the air. Nothing about war was to be spoken tonight; it was a night of welcoming and of feasting. There would be plenty of time during the following days for the moods to turn sour.

A couple of hours into the feast, Thranduil turned to Tinuven, who was seated on his right, while Thranduil himself was seated to the King's right, as his honored guest.

"How are you liking our hosts, Commander?" he asked, speaking in Sindarin, and downed a generous gulp of wine.

"They are… likable!" he replied and chuckled. "Humans… All messy and crude and clumsy… So unlike us", he commented, but there was no malice in his tone. His voice bore sympathy rather than disdain, in the way a wise father looks upon his yet unlearned child.

"Yes. But also lively and adaptable and evolving, unlike us", remarked Thranduil as he put his goblet down.

Tinuven thought of his King's words for a short while, and then dismissed his thoughts with a shrug, returning to his eating and drinking.

Thranduil attempted a glance at Tauriel from over the Commander's bent head. She immediately met his gaze, for she, too, longed for some kind of contact with him after all these endless hours. A faint smile rose on both their faces, and their eyes spoke far more eloquently than their tongues ever would be able to.

"Are you feeling entertained, Captain?" he asked, trying to sound formal.

"Yes, my lord, thank you", she replied, and felt her cheeks suddenly burn up, as if everyone had their eyes turned on her and at once were made aware of their secret romance.

The Elvenking nodded, and his gaze lingered on her emerald eyes and rosy lips a while longer, before he turned to refill his goblet.

Tinuven might have been completely oblivious to the true nature of the exchange that was going on above his head, but the perceptive lady Meduithel saw it all, and smiled. Iaurvir, with his curiosity picked since the ride, noticed his wife's smile and the direction of her gaze, and decided this was the right time to voice the question that had been pricking his tongue for hours now.

"Is that what I think it is…?" he asked and gestured discreetly towards Thranduil and Tauriel.

Meduithel turned at once to her husband, somewhat surprised by his unexpected question.

Seeing her hesitation to answer, he spoke again. "The rumors going around in court about them sharing a romantic relationship are true, apparently", he said in an even tone.

Meduithel sighed, and understood there was no point in hiding the truth from her husband, since he was fairly certain of it. "Yes… they are true. Our King and Captain Tauriel love each other".

"Admittedly, this comes quite as a shock, given their history", he commented after savoring a mouthful of delicious salad. "What are their intentions? Do you know anything?"

"Iaurvir! Since when have you become so curious? I thought you cared not for gossip!" his wife scolded him.

But he was not thwarted. "It is not gossip, my love. I simply care for our realm's welfare, and it is directly connected to our King's welfare", he calmly stated. "Perhaps in the past I would be of different mind, but after seeing Thranduil suffer so long and so deeply after your sister's demise, and our forest darkening, with enemies attacking from all sides, I am not so pig-headed or such a fool now as to deny him a chance in happiness. If the King's love blooms, our wood will be greener, too".

Meduithel smiled and was moved by her husband's words, for they bore wisdom. She placed her hand upon his and looked into his grey eyes. Her husband was a beautiful ellon, and once had been a young lord of Doriath desired by many unmarried ellith. But he had chosen to give his heart to Meduithel and only her.

"It is possible that they will marry in the future", she finally replied to his question.

"So, young Tauriel is to become Queen?" he wondered and took a sip from his wine.

"Apparently".

Iaurvir remained thoughtful for a while. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms before his chest, contemplating the idea of Tauriel sitting on the throne beside Thranduil.

"She is not noble, and I will not hide it from you that I would have preferred a Sinda wearing the queenly crown. But, on the other hand, she is spirited and intelligent", he said, examining in his mind both sides of the coin, and looked at his wife.

"Oh, do not be so traditional now, my love. We Sindar have been ruling over the Silvan communities for thousands of years. Perhaps it is time some of their own ascended to the throne", the lady suggested.

He shrugged. "It is of little matter. The King is a Sinda, and so is Legolas. It will make no difference if a Silvan Queen takes up the mantle", the councilor insisted on his views.

"Yes, it is as you say", Meduithel sought to pacify him, realizing there was no point in trying to change her husband's beliefs. "Since Thranduil loves her and has chosen her, what remains for us to do but love her and accept her?"

Iaurvir regarded his wife for a while and he finally nodded his assent. "Yes, we must do that, and more. For the good of our kingdom, she must be supported in her first steps, until she is able to manage on her own".

"I agree with you, my love. And it will please Thranduil greatly to know we are on his side. Let us help this poor elleth become a good Queen. I know she has it in her; I have seen her eyes and I know her heart. She is true of purpose, a lover of truth and warm-hearted. She will add to the governance of our realm those necessary elements that Thranduil lacks", she said passionately.

"You speak wisely, my dearest lady. I trust your judgement", Iaurvir whispered and kissed his wife's hand.

Pleased that she had managed to ensure Iaurvir's cooperation and support, Meduithel refilled both their goblets and then leaned against her husband's shoulder, enjoying the song and dance with a light heart for the rest of the evening.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The following day bore little of the previous evening's merry-making and splendor. A dull and grey morning found a grumpy and rather unenthusiastic King Bain in the council room, seated alongside his son and their five councilors. On the opposite side of the table sat the Elvenking and his people, ready to discuss plans of war.

The elderly King took the floor first. "My lord Thranduil, if I am not mistaken, you are come here to speak of your thoughts to march against Dol Guldur. Please, explain to us your plans", he prompted the other King.

Thranduil nodded to his counterpart and glanced at the people around him before speaking. Everyone was looking at him with interest.

"King Bain, you are right in what you have said. It is my intention to launch an assault on Dol Guldur, for the evil that resides in the ruins of the old fortress is growing at a nearly uncontrollable rate. The south of the Woodland Realm suffers greatly from the daily attacks of the orcs, who have grown too bold indeed. The forest is sick and infested with giant spiders; my guards burn one nest after the other, but their numbers seem endless. It is my thought and intention to attack the enemy before it manages to amass such a great force that, when it chooses to march against us, we will be crushed by it", he started, presenting the current situation.

"All you say is just and understandable, my lord Elvenking, but I fail to see how this situation affects the kingdom of Dale", responded Bain and crossed his arms before his chest in a huff. Brand gave his father a side-glance, but remained silent.

But Thranduil had expected such a comment from the elderly King. "If the Woodland Realm falls, they who do you think will follow, my lord Bain?" he asked in a stern tone and glared at Bain. "Make no mistake, my good people", he then turned to Dale's councilors. "The arm of evil is long, and grows longer still. If we fall, it will not be long before your kingdom shares in our fate".

The faces of the councilors grew grim, for they acknowledged the truth in the Elvenking's words. Still, they were not so eager to engage in a war that had not yet reached their doorstep.

"If I may, my lord", said one of them, and he was granted permission to speak. "Dale is a young kingdom; a mere sixty years have passed after its re-establishment. Our army is not vast or strong enough to take part in such a grand venture. Who will remain here to watch our borders?"

A round of murmurs arose amongst the councilors of Dale, for they were agreed with their colleague's argument. Thranduil closed his eyes momentarily, swallowing his irritation and maintaining his cool. But then Bain banged his fist on the table. "Silence!" he called, and the murmurs ceased.

He then turned to the Elvenking with a kinder look upon his face. "My councilors make a good point here. We do not have great numbers such as yourselves".

"It seems to me Dale has already forgotten the wrath and ruin the dragon Smaug once brought upon it", said Thranduil in a booming voice. "You underestimate the power of the evil in the south, but I have seen it with my own eyes time and again. Should our old enemy rise to his full power again, everything that is good and fair will be lost from this world. His hand of destruction will reach as far as the ends of this Middle Earth, if we do nothing to intercept its course. Our kingdoms will fall, our cities will burn and turn to ashes. Dale knows of what I speak firsthand. You would not wish for a similar fate to befall your glorious city again", he forewarned.

Fear now gripped the hearts of the gathered people. Even the faces of the elves became gloomy. Thranduil looked around, pleased with the effects his words had had on Bain's councilors.

They turned then to each other and the room was filled with a drumming murmur, and mild commotion arose, as the negotiators spoke in low voices of their fears and worries, throwing quick glances to the elves. Some of them in turn reached to their human colleagues and tried to persuade them for the wisdom of their King's intention.

This disorder went on for a few minutes, during which the two Kings exchanged looks, assessing each other. Bain regarded Thranduil with uncertainty and doubt, feeling torn between working with the elves and towards the greater good, and maintaining his current course of preserving the welfare of his kingdom, regardless of the perils they might face in the future. Thranduil, on the other hand, wore a mask of serenity and stared at the other King with a steady and steely gaze, unyielding in his resolve and encouraged by his belief in the justice and necessity of his cause.

But Prince Brand did not partake in the low-voiced conversations of the negotiators. He watched his father and the Elvenking for a while, trying to look beyond the surface and decipher and understand the latter one's true thoughts. But Thranduil's face was unreadable, and his mind remained a mystery to Brand, who lacked the elf's experience and practice of thousands of years.

Seeing that his father chose for the moment to remain sullen and silent, sulking in his chair, the Prince stood up and called for everyone's attention. "Please, if I may speak a word", he said, and every voice was soon silenced. He then turned to look at the Elvenking, taking a deep breath before speaking. "My lord Thranduil, Dale has not forgotten its past, I assure you. And I do not doubt the truth of your words", he said, referring to the last point Thranduil had made in his speech. "But if evil is so strong as you say, I fear it may be folly to challenge it. Perhaps, instead of obtaining victory, we will be marching to our dooms one day or two sooner", he said in a guarded tone.

Thranduil remained silent for a moment, for he understood the root of the man's fears, and beside him Iaurvir sighed, for he had originally thought of the same thing, when the Elvenking first brought the subject to the council. Now, he felt it was his turn to stand and speak.

"If I may voice my opinion", he started. "My Prince Brand, these were exactly my initial thoughts and fears. But, please, allow me to say it is only through an alliance that we may achieve victory. This is not an endeavor for one realm alone to undertake. Our forces must unite in a common cause. Are we not allies, already, after all? What is the meaning of an allegiance if not to aid each other in times of war?" he spoke in diplomatic ways, not using his King's sharpness, but the subtlety of a negotiator honeyed throughout the long centuries.

The Prince of Dale assessed him for a while, not hastening to answer. But another of Dale's council stood up and took the floor. "True enough, nobody can ever disagree with what you say, lord Iaurvir. But here talk is made of a war that we ourselves are going to start!" he cried almost indignantly. "No, not we. It is you, in fact, who wish to start this war and drag us along in its peril!" he added furiously, earning surprised and annoyed glances for his unexpected forwardness and disrespect towards their guests.

Thranduil's eyebrows met in a deep frown of insult, while beside him Tinuven looked equally angered and insulted and ready to spring up from his seat and make things worse. King Bain, on the other hand, did not move a finger to reprimand his councilor and bring him back in line, but only sat and waited for the reaction of the elves. Brand looked away and sighed in disappointment.

Seeing the oncoming eruption of tempers, the lady Meduithel grasped the opportunity to intervene and speak. "My good lords, there is no need for us to fight amongst ourselves now, for this is exactly what the enemy wishes for in order to defeat us: discord and dissension".

Upon hearing her wise words, the angry councilor sat down and assumed a controlled countenance. Meduithel spoke on. "Each side can offer its own just arguments. But, pray listen to me, we have to look at the bigger picture here. It is not a selfish cause we are discussing, it is not a war for the expansion of our borders that we wage, nor do we speak of the separate preservation of our realms. The stakes are much higher, for it is the survival of our whole world that is bargained here. And make no mistake; it is not us, who started this war. It was Sauron himself, since the day he openly declared himself and fled to Mordor", she said and threw intense looks around. Everybody kept silent. "The Nazgul are his mightiest servants and the lieutenants of his army. Three of them reside in the ruins of Dol Guldur. Their orders come directly from the Dark Lord, and so does their power. We cannot allow it to grow unhindered for much longer. We are already at war, and, as my King said, this war affects us all. Let us bring the sword to the enemy, lest he move first and catch us unawares. Let us fight to save our world before it is too late".

The lady concluded her short speech and waited for the reactions of the men of Dale. King Bain huffed and grunted, not yet persuaded about the necessity of this march, and the rest exchanged worried and thoughtful glances among them. Prince Brand seemed more motivated than the rest, but his father's passivity discouraged him from voicing his thoughts.

Thranduil looked and nodded at Meduithel with a faint smile upon his lips; her words had pleased him, and she did exactly what he had expected her to do, justifying his choice to include her in his team of negotiators.

"I can see your point", spoke King Bain at last, obviously tired. "And I do not doubt your noble intent. But you have to give me time to think about it first. I say we take a break now and resume our conversation tomorrow, or the day after", he vaguely said and motioned with his hand the dismissal of the council.

With that he stood from his chair, grimacing in discomfort, as his back gave him pain again. The rest stood after him and soon they exited the room.

* * *

Thranduil wore an expression of displeasure upon his face as he quickly walked along the corridors that led to his assigned chambers. Once inside, he instructed the servant waiting outside that he was not to be disturbed unless it was King Bain himself, and then proceeded to lock the door and remove himself from the public eye.

With a sigh he got rid of his heavy cloak and crown and deposited his weight in a plush armchair. _Bain, you old fool,_ he thought. _If you are giving me such a hard time, then what should I expect from Dain Ironfoot?_

Of course, the Elvenking had not yet played all his cards. He had refrained from mentioning Dale and Esgaroth's trading relations with his realm, and their long dependence upon it. He had not spoken of Mirkwood's vital assistance in the rebirth of this northern kingdom. Thranduil had decided to use Dale's obligation and indebtedness towards him as a final argument, if they proved difficult to be persuaded otherwise. Had it not been for his personal magnanimity and generosity, the old city would have never risen from its ruins, for the dwarves alone would never agree to spend much of their precious gold for the sake of those poor men. The Elvenking was certain that if it had been left up to Dain alone, he would seek to exploit the men of Dale and Esgaroth, and perhaps use Bard and later Bain as vassal Kings. But Thranduil knew the north was in need of strong and independent kingdoms in the face of the coming war, and he had put great efforts in helping Dale stand on its own. Was it not now time he was paid back what he was owed?

But he did not wish to resort to threats to ensure their allegiance. Dale was a free kingdom, and it should give its assent freely. Thranduil was disappointed the King and his councilors could not see the severity of the matter. But he could not truly blame them, for most of them had been born in times of relative peace and knew not of the horrors of war or the threat that Mordor represented. For them stories of ancient evil were just that: stories. Bain himself was a mere child when Smaug was felled, and Thranduil could understand his reluctance for joining a war against an enemy the methods of which went far beyond sword and fire. Nevertheless, he had to win this argument, for without the ensured pledge of Dale's allegiance, there really was no hope for the aid of the dwarves of Erebor.

His counselors, at least, had spoken well. He knew he was right to choose them, and they had proven their worth with their words and the effect they had on Bain and his people. But still, it was not enough. They would have to intensify their efforts, if they were to convince the old King to commit his forces to their cause.

Thranduil let his head rest against the back of the armchair and closed his eyes _. I am not made for councils and negotiations. These things are for Elrond, not me,_ he thought _. If only things were easier… if only Tauriel was here with me now,_ he inwardly wished.

Tauriel. The young elleth had remained silent during the meeting, seated beside Tinuven and observing the conversation before her. Thranduil had anticipated her quiet stance, since she was new to this and inexperienced. Unfortunately, there was little chance for him to spare looks to her during the session, for he had been kept very busy by the King of Dale and his people. But now he profoundly wished for her to be here in his arms. He wondered how she might be now, what she might be thinking. He wanted to hear her opinion and impression of the discussions. He wanted to look into her eyes and draw strength from there. He wanted to feel her warmth in his embrace, which soothed all his aches and worries. He wanted to lie with her and forget all about Dol Guldur and war and councils.

But he could fulfil none of his wishes for the moment, for there were plans scheduled for the afternoon, to honor and entertain the King of the Woodland Realm and his elves. Alas, his wishes would have to wait for until later tonight.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, the Elvenking and his companions were given a tour around Dale by Prince Brand and his wife. Thranduil had not personally visited the city since King Bain's coronation in the year 2977 of the Third Age. Bain had been a middle-aged man back then, but now he was in the dusk of his life. To Thranduil, however, it all seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye. Time had little meaning for one who was to live forever.

To his pleasant surprise, Dale had evolved quite much during Bain's reign. New buildings, which Thranduil did not recall from the past, had been erected, and the population had considerably grown and prospered. The famous and rich market of Dale was re-established and expanded, and goods from every corner of Middle Earth could be found there.

Unlike the morning, the afternoon was graced with sunlight, which fell on the high and partially snow-covered domes of the city and made them glisten silver and golden, and the light wind made the flags ripple. A welcome feeling of peace and relaxation nestled in Thranduil's heart, as they leisurely walked in the streets of Dale and were occasionally greeted by citizens.

To his right walked Brand, who also wore a pleasant smile on his face. "How do you like our city, my lord Thranduil?" he asked.

"It is a lovely sight. I commend you for the improvements you have made and the prosperity you enjoy", he replied, clasping his hands behind his back as he went. "If only it continues in the future", he added, giving the Prince a piercing glance.

The fair-haired man sighed, for he understood the Elvenking's notion. "Old age has made my father harder to persuade", he said solemnly.

"But you do see I am right in my cause, do you not, Prince Brand?" Thranduil pressed on.

He reluctantly nodded.

The Elvenking watched him closely, trying to determine whether this man could be the key to the success of the negotiations. During the morning meeting, Brand seemed to be more conciliatory than the other councilors or his father, and admittedly more intelligent than any of them. If the elves stood any chance of winning someone over to their side, then this was Brand. An idea came then to Thranduil's mind, and his countenance changed into a pleasant one, allowing a small smile to curl his lips.

"Never mind now, Prince. We shall speak no more of war today. Let us enjoy this walk and the festivities you have prepared for us", he said and walked forth.

About an hour later and while they were standing in the market square and watching a short play, Thranduil grabbed Tinuven by the arm and pulled him closer. He was careful for his move to go unnoticed by Brand, who was at the moment engaged in a lively but trivial conversation with Iaurvir and Meduithel over the content of the play and the skills of the actors. But Tauriel, who was standing beside the Commander, raised a curious eyebrow at this sudden motion of the King.

"My lord?" asked Tinuven, mildly surprised as well and now distracted from the show.

"Do not be alarmed, but listen to me, Tinuven. I have a mission for you", he started in a low voice. "And now pretend you are still watching the play as I am talking to you", he instructed the other ellon and he nodded. "I can see that Brand agrees with our cause, but he is reluctant because of Bain. However, his influence on his father is great, and he is also the head of Dale's army. I want you, as my Commander, to speak with him tonight or tomorrow, whenever you get a chance. You are both warriors and noble-minded; talk to him of soldiers and tactics, of battle and honor; find a way to pick his interest. Speak to him of glory to be won and such. You know what I mean. Once the fire is lit in his heart, it will be easy to win him over to our purpose. And when you have achieved that, then urge him to speak to his father", Thranduil laid out his plan.

"I will do that, my lord King. But, if I may ask, will he listen to what I have to say? Would it not be more preferable if you spoke to him yourself?" Tinuven voiced his qualm.

"People are afraid of Kings, even if they are Princes, and their tongues are tied in their presence. All the more if said Kings are elves and thousands of years old", Thranduil replied. "I tried to bring the matter up earlier, but he was very reserved. He will be more open and receptive if someone else approaches him and talks to him, a man of the military, a noble warrior like himself. This is why I entrust this mission to you. Do not disappoint me, Tinuven", he said and finally let go of the Commander's arm.

"I will do my best, my lord", Tinuven promised.

* * *

Later in the day, and after they had returned to the palace and to their chambers to retire, Tauriel heard a knock on the door. The face of a serving maid appeared as she opened it.

"My lady Tauriel, your King requests your presence. I am to show you to his quarters", said the girl in a timid voice.

Tauriel's heart fluttered in her chest at the prospect of being alone with Thranduil, for they had absolutely no private time since they left Mirkwood.

"Alright. Let us go", she told the girl and together they made for the Elvenking's chambers.

Soon enough her arrival was announced to him, and as she was waiting in the antechamber, she heard Thranduil ordering the servants not to disturb him, for he had to discuss important matters with his Captain. She bit her lip, choking down a chuckle, as she thought of said important matters and what they truly meant.

As soon as she was shown inside, the servants left, and the door closed.

Thranduil and Tauriel stood opposite each other, nearly holding their breaths. But that lasted only for a brief moment, because the next they rushed into each other's arms, hugging each other tightly.

"Tauriel!" he breathed. "I missed you so dearly…"

"As did I, mell nin", she whispered in his embrace.

He then bent his head to claim her lips in a kiss, pouring all his love in it. Tauriel was thrilled, and responded fervently, deepening the kiss and losing herself completely in it.

"My love, my love…" he murmured in her hair, as he cradled her head against his shoulder.

She relaxed in his arms, and her hands lazily traced the curve of his back. "At last, we have some time for ourselves", she sighed and closed her eyes, breathing in his scent deeply.

"I could not wait to be alone with you. The requirements of the day have tired me to no end, but now that you are with me…" he said and drew a little back so as to look her in the eye. "Now all fatigue and worries are gone".

She lifted her hand to caress his cheek, and then planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Tell me, how are you?" he asked her with genuine care as he led her to sit on the edge of the bed, and he sat beside her.

"I am well, my love, worry not. It is the first time I take part in negotiations, so I cannot say I am as bored and vexed as you probably are. It is a good opportunity for me to watch and learn, as lady Meduithel urged me to do", Tauriel replied.

"Yes, I second that", Thranduil agreed with a nod of his silver head. "But negotiations can be wearisome, especially when you cannot reach the desired outcome quickly. If only Tinuven is successful in his mission!" he wished and allowed himself to fall back on the mattress.

Tauriel leaned back as well, propping herself on one elbow. "You asked of him to talk to Brand, if I heard correctly".

"Yes. And soon we will know whether he is successful or not", he responded and turned his gaze to Tauriel.

"He is a trustworthy man. He will do as he has been asked", said she in a confident tone, while allowing her fingers to play with a stray strand of his hair.

"One can only hope", commented Thranduil in a rather tired tone.

Tauriel opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, having changed her mind. He saw her hesitation and asked her, "What is it?"

"Well… I was wondering…" she began and shifted in her position so at to look at him more closely. "I was wondering why you reprimanded Tinuven so harshly for the words he said during our lunch break in the woods, before we reached Dale. It is not like he offended me. in fact, he was right in what he said".

The Elvenking sat up. "Tauriel, my young and naïve Tauriel…" he murmured and smiled, his fingers touching her chin gently. "I will suffer none to question my Queen or my decisions, be it Tinuven or anyone else. It does not matter if he was right or wrong in what he said; it was not his place to speak, and he should not have spoken", he explained.

"But I am no Queen, and Tinuven knows nothing of the nature of our relationship", she countered.

"And he needs to learn nothing for the time being. I will not jeopardize the success of our quest because of Tinuven's possible opposition to our love. What we have between us has nothing to do with the allegiance I am trying to secure, and to that end I need unity and concord amongst my people", he answered to the second part of her phrase. "As to you not being a Queen… True enough, you are not. Not yet. But you will be a Queen one day, and you have to learn how to earn the respect you will be owed. This is not by standing for offensive comments", he ended.

"But everyone is entitled to their opinion…" Tauriel began, but Thranduil interrupted her.

"Yes, when said opinion is asked. The rules that apply to Kings are slightly different and more complicated than those that apply to normal people. I understand and forgive your ignorance, my love. You could not have known", he told her in a softer tone. "But you have to listen to what I tell you. I never said becoming a Queen would be an easy path to walk on, but I did promise to help you and be at your side and guide you, did I not?" he asked and tenderly took her hand in his larger one, looking deep into her eyes.

Tauriel's heart melted under his gaze, and once again in her life she felt too small and insignificant to even be in his presence. "How can I ever forget your promises?" she whispered. "I remember every word you have said to me, every glance you have gifted me with, every kiss you have given me…" she went on in an emotional and nearly trembling tone, her eyes now glistening with newly formed tears.

Thranduil raised his palm to gently cup her cheek, and carefully leaned close for a kiss, probingly, tentatively, as if asking for permission. For he, too, was deeply moved by the intensity of their shared feelings, which expanded beyond any boundaries of perception, but still was able to be contained into that moment when their gazes locked and their lips touched.

Like ignited flames their _fear_ burned brightly, and sought to entwine with each other. The Elvenking felt liberated and healed, for the once strong presence of the darkness and taint in his spirit had now subsided and was reduced to a small and unimportant black spot in a vastness of white. Tauriel's searing and pure light encompassed him, heated him, blinded him, and he was all too grateful for that.

Feeling one with the stars that shone up high in the night sky, he kissed his beloved deeply and took her in his arms as they lay on the mattress.

"Tell me we will be like this forever…" she breathily asked of him, reaching to untie the cord of his robes. Loosely tied as it was, it easily fell apart and exposed him to her gaze and touch.

His hand slid swiftly beneath her tunic, pushing the fabric aside and exposing her tantalizing flesh. A tug on the laces freed her of her garment, and now they were both equally naked.

He pulled her against him, eager but not rushing to become one with her. He looked into her emerald eyes, and the stars shone in his. Slowly he entered her, never breaking the eye contact, and the sweet friction elicited a soft moan from her.

Tauriel could not decide what was more arousing and fulfilling: gazing into his eyes or having him inside her. But soon she let go of the dilemma, for she realized there was no need for her to choose, since she could have both. She could have all of him at once.

Tightening her legs around his hips, she prompted him to thrust deeper inside her, and he complied with her request. His breathing gradually became quicker, and a flush came and spread on his chest and neck, as he drove them both towards the zenith of their pleasure. Every feeling intensified with every passing moment, as they climbed together towards the peak, until they reached it and then jumped with abandon into the abyss of the utmost sexual satisfaction.

Sated and spent they lay in each other's arms then, feeling excluded from the rest of the world as if it had never existed for them. At that moment in time they cared not they were in Dale, they cared not a war was about to break out, they cared not they would have to face tremendous difficulties in their path. All they cared about was their love and the special feeling of bliss reserved only for their private and intimate hours.

Thranduil drew the covers over them both, protecting them for the chill of the winter night. Tauriel molded her body against his and tucked her head beneath his chin, in the hollow of his throat. He draped one arm across her torso, holding her to him protectively.

Closing his eyes and breathing in her scent, he whispered, "We will be like this forever".


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The following morning King Bain called not for a meeting, claiming he was indisposed due to health issues. Consequentially, the elves were left with plenty of leisure time to wander about and enjoy the goods and treats of Dale.

Soon after breakfast Tinuven approached the Elvenking, as the latter went down to the gardens, intending to take a slow stroll, put his thoughts in order and decide how to proceed when the negotiations resumed, which would hopefully be the next day.

"My lord Thranduil", he called from a short distance, interrupting the other elf's train of thought.

The Elvenking's first reaction was to feel mild irritation at the disruption of his peace and solitude, but as he turned to his Commander he quickly remembered the mission he had assigned to him, and his gaze changed into one of interest and impatience.

"Tinuven", he acknowledged his presence, as the other ellon came to walk beside his King. "What news have we?"

The Commander glanced around. There were only a few of Dale's noblewomen sauntering in the garden's paths, and none was within hearing distance.

"I spoke with Brand yesterday evening as you ordered me to do, my lord. He listened carefully to what I had to say, and in the end he agreed to talk to his father", he announced with contained glee.

"So the Prince is on our side? Does he support our cause now?" Thranduil sought to confirm the truth of the good news delivered to him.

"Yes, my lord. Prince Brand was sympathetic to our cause from the beginning on, as you yourself had said. His father's unwillingness kept him back, though. Now, however, all doubt is gone from his head, and he is eager to lead his men against Dol Guldur. He told me he will speak to his father in private and try to convince him", Tinuven explained.

"I hope he will not fail in that. If he succeeds, he will make the next round of negotiations far easier for us", the Elvenking remarked.

"Yes, my lord. I do believe he will not fail. He disclosed to me that King Bain trusts his reason and takes his opinion into account. He also said that, had it not been for his old age and prolonged inactivity and relative peace his kingdom enjoys, the King would not be so hesitant to lend us his aid", said Tinuven.

"Let us hope the old King will be reminded of old glory, then, and be motivated by it", murmured Thranduil, as his gaze wandered over the domes in the distance. They had come to a high plateau now, which offered great view of the city and beyond.

Erebor was visible in the north-east, and its peaks and slopes were snow-covered, glimmering under the sunlight and reflecting it. The mountain was so close now, so tangible, that Thranduil felt a shiver run down his spine. It was easy to gaze upon it from his halls in Mirkwood, with the many miles between them. It was ever-present, but distant, more like a memory than a reality. But now it was different. Erebor was very close and very real, as were the events that took place on the plains before it more than half a century ago.

And it looked absolutely the same as he remembered it, unchanged by the passing of time.

"Erebor, Tinuven", the Elvenking softly said, his voice bearing a sorrowful quality, and stood with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Yes, my lord", responded the other, guessing his King's thoughts.

"How many years has it been? Sixty? Sixty-one?"

"Sixty-one, my lord".

Thranduil nodded. "I remember that day as if it was only yesterday".

"As do I, my lord. As do all of your people".

The Elvenking gave a quick glance to Tinuven. "Evil occupied and possessed that mountain in the form of the dragon Smaug for more than two centuries. Evil brought death and ruin to the city we now stand in. We must not allow evil to rise again", he said in a hard but deep-down emotional voice.

The Commander looked at his King. "We will fight, give our lives if need be, to prevent this from happening", he said with determination.

"Yes, Tinuven, we shall give our lives", he repeated after him with a sigh. "Do you recognize the paradox in this? That we immortal beings must lay down our lives, as any mortal would", he murmured.

A frown of concern descended upon Tinuven's brow. "You are still troubled by this, my lord", he observed.

"And I will ever be", Thranduil responded and slightly lifted his chin, gazing towards Erebor through half-lidded eyes. "Too much elven blood has been spilled in defense of this Middle Earth. And yet more needs to be spilled".

"Nothing that is good can be won without sacrifice. You and I know well of this, my lord", the Commander said, turning fully to his King.

Thranduil kept looking ahead, the faint morning light reflected in his pale eyes. "Indeed. You lost your father here, on the plains before this mountain. I do not forget".

The other ellon lowered his gaze. "Yes, my lord. And you made me a Commander in his place shortly afterwards", he said in a low voice.

"I did not do this out of pity. You deserved the honor, Tinuven. You fought valiantly before Erebor. It was you, who held the battle on the field, while Feren and I made for the city, and while my son rushed to Ravenhill", Thranduil said, his voice falling to a whisper in the end. He never liked reminiscing upon the events of Ravenhill and Tauriel's betrayal.

Tinuven noticed the change in his King's demeanor, but wisely chose not to inquire upon it. "I only did my duty, my lord", he humbly offered.

"You did, and for that you were rewarded".

The Commander smiled faintly, pleased by his King's words. Thranduil then turned to him with a pleasant but somewhat strange look upon his face.

"I never understood why you chose to be content with battle and battle alone, Tinuven", he cryptically remarked.

Tinuven gave him a perplexed look. "I am a soldier, my lord. This is what I do".

Thranduil's smile grew wider. "I did not mean that, my old friend". Seeing the unchanged expression on the other's face, he elaborated. "I simply wonder why you limited yourself to the joys of battle, and not enjoy the delights of a wife and family as well".

"Oh…"

But for his military training and discipline, Tinuven's face turned red and he lowered his eyes.

"Come now, Tinuven. Do not be embarrassed. I was only trying to make some light conversation, to take our minds off the serious matters. I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable", the Elvenking gently said.

"Forgive my reaction, my lord, for I am not used to this kind of talk. I do not deserve an apology from you", he meekly said. "The truth is, the thought of marrying has crossed my mind many a time, but…"

Tinuven hesitated, and Thranduil's curiosity was now somewhat picked. But he decided to allow the other some time to gather his thoughts and speak when he would.

"But the lady I have given my heart to would never look upon me", the Commander finally admitted, and ashamedly averted his gaze.

Thranduil felt for the plight of his old friend, and gave him a sympathetic look. "Perhaps you have not tried hard enough", he suggested under a raised eyebrow.

Tinuven turned to look at him, playing his words in his head. After a while he only said, "Perhaps".

"As you said, nothing that is good can be won without sacrifice", said the Elvenking, as his thoughts turned to Tauriel.

They had parted very early, just before dawn, and she had returned to her chambers to bathe and make ready for the day. They had not met since, and he had no idea where she was now. Hopefully, she was safe in the company of Meduithel and her husband. Thranduil let out a sigh; he missed her already.

"Have you ever considered…" began Tinuven, pulling Thranduil out of his reverie. "Have you ever considered remarrying, my lord?" he dared ask, though rather sheepishly.

Thranduil gave him a sharp glance, not because he felt offended by the question, but because he thought Tinuven might be suspecting something. "Why do you ask?" he demanded, but his voice sounded harsher than he had intended. Instantly he regretted that.

But Tinuven recoiled and bowed his head before his King. "Forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to be rude and it was not my place to ask".

"You are right, it was not", responded Thranduil, albeit in a kinder tone. "But I will give you an answer nonetheless".

The Commander lifted his head and looked at the Elvenking with interest. For a short while, Thranduil felt torn between telling Tinuven the truth and not. In the end he chose to refrain from it, remembering that he needed no unnecessary opposition right now, which might jeopardize the unity of his party.

"It is not impossible that I might consider it at some point in the future", he finally said, answering in what was not a lie, but not the truth either.

Tinuven nodded, deciding not to press the matter any further for his own good. "All of your people wish to see their King happy, my lord", he only said, and fell silent afterwards.

"How has my decision to open our realm to the world and now try to rally our allies to an assault against Dol Guldur been seen by the people? By the soldiers? I want to hear the truth and not honey-coated words", Thranduil required and examined Tinuven's face closely.

"It has been very well received, my lord. The army is enthusiastic, and the people long to be free of the dominion of the Shadow. Above all, they are pleased to see their King so lively and motivated again", the Commander replied earnestly.

The Elvenking nodded, hiding from the other ellon the extent of the satisfaction he felt. "Let us hope my plans will not be impeded by silly men and obstinate dwarves", he plainly commented.

He then glanced towards Erebor again, and frowned at the sight. "Let us go from here, Tinuven. I dislike the mountain's haunting shadow, and we will be inside it sooner than it would be agreeable to me".

* * *

As Thranduil had guessed, Tauriel was passing her time in the company of Meduithel and Iaurvir. Free of any obligation, they decided to wander around the market of Dale, and perhaps buy a gift or two for their loved ones.

They had stopped before a stall now, which was selling fine silks. Meduithel took the edge of a cloth roll in her hands and examined it with interest, while her husband simply stood beside her and wore a kind smile upon his face.

"I believe this peachy color would look lovely on Amarien. What do you think, my love?" she asked Iaurvir and prompted him to touch the silken cloth.

"It looks fine. I agree with you, it will compliment her skin tone", the ellon commented.

"I assure you, my lord and lady, this is of the finest silks Middle Earth has to offer!" chimed the enthusiastic young vendor with a bright smile on her round face.

Tauriel was watching the exchange with a small smile. She remembered Amarien was the daughter of the pair before her, an elleth of skill and beauty, and a cousin of Legolas, of course. As a child, she had been sometimes allowed to participate in their games and adventures; her parents, however, had always preferred a more scholarly education and upbringing for her. In some ways, Amarien reminded Tauriel of Lossendis. The memory of her friend brought a measure of sadness in her heart, for she did miss her, as she missed Rivendell. At that moment she made a mental promise to herself that she would visit her old home as soon as she had the chance to.

"Tauriel? What do you say? Do you like it?" Meduithel asked her, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, my lady. It can be turned into a wonderful dress for your daughter", replied she.

The lady nodded, and then proceeded to hand the cloth to the vendor and motion for Iaurvir to complete the purchase.

As they left the stall, Tauriel thought how nice it would be to be gifted something so beautiful by a loving parent. Having lost her own at a very young age, the only gifts she ever remembered to have received from them were a few wooden toys and daggers. Her parents were simple elves of the wood, who lived outside the Elvenking's halls, and although they were not poor, they could not afford any luxuries.

Still, she felt not jealousy for the expensive gift Amarien was to receive, but for the gesture. She had forgotten how it was to have a parent, who thinks of you and wishes to bestow gifts upon you. There was a hollow in Tauriel's heart, a place that should have been filled with the love and care of her father and mother as she grew up, but which was doomed to remain void. She had known the kindness and mercy of the Elvenking, when he took her to his halls as an orphan, and she had known the tender care of the maids that oversaw her upbringing, but it was not the same. For not even Thranduil's love, or a potential child's love could ever fill this empty spot, because not all kinds of love are the same, and some cannot be regained or replaced, if lost.

Lady Meduithel noticed the solemn face of the elleth, and turned to her. "What is it, my dear?" she asked in a low and gentle voice. "You look as if something is troubling you".

Tauriel lifted her head and forced a smile on her lips. "It is nothing, my lady. I am fine, I assure you".

Meduithel could sense that Tauriel was not being entirely frank with her, but she was experienced with young ellith and the swings of their moods, and decided not to ask any more questions.

But those feelings of longing were not the only thing that pained Tauriel's heart, for this place was full of memory for her. She had not visited Dale since that fateful day of the battle sixty-one years ago, and now the sight of those same walls and monuments brought images of the past to her mind. She remembered riding into Dale with Legolas, finding Gandalf, and finally trying to block her King's way, eventually drawing her bow against him.

Because, if Tauriel was to be entirely sincere with herself, this still bothered her, although Thranduil had since long forgiven her. When in his arms and in the safety of their home, it was easy for her to push the disturbing thoughts aside. But now she was walking on those very roads her betrayal had taken place, and the memory was chilling. She remembered Kili, and how her love for him had led her to dangerous choices. _Love can make us do incredible things, both good and evil,_ she pondered, and then a shudder coursed through her body, as she wondered about what the future might bring. Would she ever be placed again in a similar position, having to choose between loyalty and the command of her heart? Would she be called upon to make such tough and life-altering choices? Would her love for Thranduil be put to the test, as it happened with Kili?

Lost in her thoughts she walked beside the couple, indifferent and uninvolved in the happenings of the world around her. She was not even paying attention to the light conversation between Meduithel and Iaurvir, unwilling to take part in it. And then suddenly she saw her King in the distance, with Tinuven by his side, walking amongst the crowds, which acknowledged his passing with bows and smiles and kind words.

"Ah, there is our King", said Iaurvir, and began to walk towards him.

Thranduil noticed his councilors and Tauriel coming towards him, and raised his hand in a gesture of greeting.

"My lord King", said Iaurvir and bent his head. "And lord Tinuven", he greeted the Commander, who responded with a nod and a small smile.

"What a joy to happen upon you", added Meduithel.

"Iaurvir, Meduithel", Thranduil acknowledged their presence, and then turned his eyes to Tauriel. "Captain", he said.

"My lord", said Tauriel timidly.

"How has your morning been? Ours has been rather passive, I fear", spoke Tinuven with a half-smile.

"So has been ours as well", replied Iaurvir. "You cannot expect much excitement outside that council room, I am afraid", he went on with a dose of sarcasm in his tone.

"That is true", said the Elvenking. "I presume negotiations will resume tomorrow". With that he began walking again, and the rest of his company followed by his side.

"Apparently so. Some delays were to be expected…" Meduithel said with a sigh.

"Of course", said Thranduil. "But now that we are given the chance, I will have you know of something", he spoke and glanced at the elves.

All gave him curious looks, save for Tinuven, who already knew what this was about.

"At my command, our lord Commander here made sure that Prince Brand is on our side, and he is to talk to his father and convince him to aid us. In fact, I believe this is the real reason behind today's cancellation of the meeting", the Elvenking explained.

"This is excellent news indeed", Iaurvir said gleefully. "My lord, that was a very clever move".

"Save your commendation and praise, Iaurvir. We know each other since the First Age, and we both have employed similar tactics countless times. Not to mention that you yourself had been the first to speak of Brand's character and his possible sympathy towards our cause", Thranduil told him with a raised thick eyebrow.

Iaurvir laughed softly. "And since the First Age I have not known another elf, man or dwarf more immune to compliments than yourself, my King!"

His remark produced a round of soft and good-natured laughter from everyone except Thranduil, who tried to maintain his regal composure and shot sharp glances at his people. But in the end, when his eyes locked with Tauriel's gleaming emerald ones, he yielded and joined in the laughs.

"If you want to praise someone, then praise Tinuven, Iaurvir. He deserves it, for he was the one to ensure Brand's cooperation", said then Thranduil and gestured toward the Commander.

"Well, that is true. Congratulations to you, lord Commander!" the councilor said merrily and not without some amount of intended exaggeration.

Tinuven accepted the praise with a smile and an inclination of his head, but spoke not.

Tauriel's spirits were lifted, due to the good news on one hand, and on the other due to their unexpected meeting with Thranduil. Her gloomy thoughts were pushed aside, and she let herself enjoy the close presence of her loved one, even though there could still be no formal or public display of their love. But this did not bother her at all, because she knew that everything had to be done in due time. And elves were patient beings, who disliked rashness and hurried decisions.

Furthermore, this was a new kind of adventure for her, so unlike what she had been used to so far. Here there were no bows or daggers involved; one had to win their battles with their only weapons being their wit and their tongues. She observed how the wise councilors spoke and behaved, and took valuable lessons from that. In the future, when she would be the Elvenqueen, she would not be tolerated to behave like a soldier or like a commoner; it would be improper and unacceptable. She would have to refine her manners and social skills. And this was not a bad or restrictive thing. Tauriel saw it as an opportunity to explore herself deeper and what she could do further. She already knew she was a keen warrior and a respected Captain. But could she be more than that? Could she be a lady, a diplomat, a host, a Queen?

She was determined to play the game and find out.

* * *

The following morning, as the elves had suspected, King Bain summoned his council and announced the continuation of the negotiations.

Thranduil took his appointed seat, and as Bain began with the formal greetings and presentations, he observed Brand's expression. The Prince looked calm and at ease; there was no twitch of the brow, no fidgeting, no shifting in his seat; the Elvenking could not detect traces of worry or anxiety on his face, and he read that as a good sign.

At last the King of Dale was done with the introductory words and sat down. Now the real talk could begin.

"My lord Thranduil, you are welcome to resume presenting your points", Bain said with a kind smile.

Thranduil nodded. "Thank you, lord Bain. I trust your health issues have been resolved?" he asked politely, slightly raising an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, yes, I am fine now. Chronic aches and troubles of an old man, there is nothing new to that", Bain responded and even chuckled.

"I am pleased to hear that", said the Elvenking. "Now, to the matter at hand".

Bain nodded, and Thranduil looked around, making sure he had the undivided attention of everyone present.

"The Woodland Realm has proposed to lead a campaign against Dol Guldur. And for that I have personally asked for the assistance of your kingdom. In the end of the last session you asked for time to think upon it", he stated, looking directly at Bain. "Well, have you, lord Bain?"

"Yes, yes, I have. I see your reasoning and I agree. We are not alone in this world, and the Shadow will fall on all of us, eventually. But I still have some reservations, regarding the military force Dale can deploy, considering the danger from the East as well. It is not seldom that Erebor requires our assistance in the eastern front. I fear it might be too demanding for Dale to fight on two fronts simultaneously", responded the elderly King, presenting his admittedly reasonable argument.

"I understand your reservations. But we do not ask of Dale to fight on two fronts and deplete its military reserves. Something like that would be unreasonable", Thranduil said. "But before I say more, I would like to hear Prince Brand's description of Dale's army, if it possible, seeing that he is the head of the military".

Bain nodded and Brand stood up. "My lord Elvenking, the army of Dale is well-trained and tried in combat against the Easterlings lately. Our numbers have grown during the last decades, and we are quite proud of the military of our realm. Sustaining a war on two fronts would be difficult, of course…" He made a pause here, looking thoughtful. No one sought to interrupt him. "The attacks from the Easterlings are sporadic and loosely organized so far, but, if I may ask, how long is the campaign against Dol Guldur estimated to last? I ask this, because, should we decide to join you, Dale's army will not be able to afford a large part of it to be away for too long, in case the Easterlings change their tactics and turn to more organized operations".

The Elvenking turned to Tinuven. "Commander Tinuven, if you may".

"Yes, my lord", said Tinuven and took the floor. "Our intention is to attack the forces of Dol Guldur before they manage to accumulate further and begin an organized assault upon the northern realms. We seek to weaken the armies of the Nazgul, and their influence, if possible. We very well know it is unreasonable to expect a thorough cleansing of the old fortress as long as the Dark Lord in the south remains unchallenged in his growing power. But we cannot allow his lieutenants to muster legions of orcs and wargs unchecked and rampant either. We seek to intercept and hinder their plans of destruction", Tinuven explained in his usual military attitude. "And now, to answer your question, my Prince, we expect the campaign to last for a season or so. With luck, we will be able to begin our march by late spring. By autumn, we should be returning home", he concluded and returned to his seat.

A round of murmurs and whispers arose amongst the councilors of Dale, and the elves patiently waited for their reaction.

King Bain lifted his hand and silence returned to the room. "You opt for a summer expedition, then".

"Yes", replied Thranduil, keeping his piercing gaze trained on the other King.

"Brand, what say you?" Bain turned to his son. "You are the head of the army, so come, speak your mind".

Brand rose once more. "My lord father, and my lord Thranduil, it is my humble opinion that Dale should participate in this campaign, for we are at the beginning of the greatest war of our time, a war that will affect all free peoples, and none can remain uninvolved. The fate of all of Middle Earth is at stake", he spoke in a deep voice. "We cannot turn our back to our allies. We cannot turn our back to the Woodland Realm, as we do not turn our back to Erebor every time they call upon us", he said, looking at his people one by one. "It was King Thranduil, who supported my grandfather and helped him rebuild this kingdom from its ruins. It is true that we owe much to his benevolence and generosity. I will not ask of you to approve of my words on these grounds alone, but to keep them in mind. So, what I propose is to lend a force to the Elvenking's cause, a force which I myself shall lead", he ended his short speech and sat in his chair.

Absolute silence reigned then, but Thranduil felt as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, for Prince Brand could not have spoken better. What remained now was the official confirmation to be given by the King and his councilors.

Finally, King Bain stood up. "My son reminds me of days long gone, of noble battles fought and glory won, of just causes and the spirit of unity and freedom. True enough, it was this spirit, which led my father Bard to stand against and defeat the dragon, and it was this spirit, which united our separate armies in the face of the common enemy. It is the same now, or even worse perhaps, as the Shadow grows in the distant land of Mordor". He then looked at his councilors, and they nodded. "You have my word, lord Elvenking, that Dale will join you and assist you in your cause", he stated firmly.

Thranduil in turn rose from his seat and nodded slowly, reverently, closing his eyes briefly as he bent his head. "I thank you, King Bain, for this promise of aid. I had always been of the persuasion that we would come to an agreement in the end", he told him with a gentle look and a faint smile upon his face.

"Yes, Elvenking. We are allies after all, and have been so for years. Dale wishes to strengthen this alliance", commented Bain.

"As does the Woodland Realm", responded Thranduil. "What remains now is the discussion of the details…" he commented.

"Nah, there will be plenty of time for that. I say we celebrate our allegiance first with a glorious dinner. What say you, elves?" proposed the King of Dale, turning to Thranduil's people with a wide grin.

The elves smiled politely and nodded their heads, but none spoke before their King.

"So be it, lord Bain", said Thranduil. "Your hospitality has been most gracious, and we shall take advantage of it a little bit more, since you so kindly offer us the chance to. True enough, the details can wait".

"Good then. Let us go and rest, drink some wine and make merry, and in the meantime I will have my lawyers ready the papers we will sign", said the elderly King and made to leave his seat.

"Certainly", said Thranduil and rose as well. "Lord Iaurvir shall assist your lawyers…"

"Yes, yes", Bain hurriedly assented with a wave of his hand. "I shall expect to see you all at dinner", he finally said and paced away from his chair.

The others followed after him, and the session was ended.

* * *

The elves remained in Dale for a few more days, until all details had been discussed, every last issue resolved and all the appropriate documents prepared and signed by the two Kings, sealing their allegiance.

The farewell celebration in honor of the Elvenking and his companions was a grand one, and it included dinner, song and dance, plays and various other artistic displays. The elves had a good time, content in their knowledge that they had achieved their first goal successfully.

But the morning when they would leave Dale came. After a brief farewell ceremony, Thranduil and his elves rode out of the city. Their new target stood only a couple of miles away and cast its ominous shadow upon them: Erebor.

Word had been sent one of the previous days to King Dain Ironfoot, and he was awaiting now the elves' arrival. All joy and slackness soon fled from the riders' hearts, as they approached the imposing mountain and the heavy doors to its hidden kingdom. For they knew their reception here would not be as pleasant as it had been in Dale. Needless to say, Dain was certain to have prepared a glorious entrance for the Elvenking, for dwarves loved to display their wealth and power, but it would be just that. The elves did not expect the dwarves to be unfriendly or hostile, of course, but they would be cold, obstinate, uncooperative and curt, to say the least. Although Thranduil anticipated Dain to be civil, if not polite, he was sure he held no friendship for the elves in his heart. And he could not blame him, for he, too, still harbored a strong dislike for the dwarven kind in his own heart. Would they be able to see past their differences and their centuries-long disagreements, and work with unity towards a common cause?

* * *

 _A/N: I kind of dislike author's notes, but I do feel obliged towards my readers and reviewers, owing them a great many thanks for the continuous support throughout Broken Glass and now Warring Hearts. Special thanks to the Guest reviewers; unfortunately, I cannot reply to you separately as is the case with signed reviews, so I do thank you all collectively here. I hope you will all continue to enjoy this story as it progresses!_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The heavy gates of Erebor opened with a resounding noise of rock grinding upon rock, as if the mountain itself was alive and groaning, awakened and displeased at the disturbance.

In front of Thranduil and his elves a large and wide corridor appeared, lit by numerous lamps on either side along it. Guarding dwarves framed the entrance and received the Elvenking and his host, who dismounted and followed the guards on foot.

Thranduil had not been inside Erebor for centuries. His last memory of the place was a profoundly unpleasant one; it was when King Thror had shown disrespect and withheld the white gems from him, nearly four centuries ago. Since then, the relations between the wood elves and the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain had been strained, and worsened with the passing of time. It was only in the recent years and after Dain Ironfoot's coronation that some measure of reconciliation between these two peoples had been achieved, as trade and commerce between Erebor and Mirkwood had been re-established and delegates from each realm often visited the other in terms of business. And the two Kings had decided to set aside their personal dislikes for the sake and prosperity of their kingdoms.

That said, of course, without them having seen each other face to face ever since the battle over Erebor's gold, which turned to a battle against the orc armies.

Now the Elvenking was crossing that very corridor, which four hundred years ago had led him in front of Thror's throne. Today that same throne was occupied by Dain, the red-haired, ill-mannered, short-tempered, bold and brazen King of the dwarves. Thranduil armed himself with patience, for he knew he would need a lot of it.

In absolute silence he walked, and his elves after him, and only the soft rustling of their robes on the marble floor was to be heard; so noiseless was the elven footing, and so rigid and motionless stood all the dwarves, as if they were not alive, but inanimate statues carved in stone.

And then he came before Dain's throne and stopped at once. Schooling his expression into a mildly pleasant one, he bowed slightly to the dwarven King, by slowly bending his head and upper body before him, but at every given moment had his eyes trained on his counterpart.

The Elvenking's silver robes glimmered and shimmered and his wintery crown looked majestic upon his flawless head, but this was nothing compared to the golden jewels that adorned Dain from head to toe. A golden crown he wore, the very same that Thror once bore, and golden ringlets and beads of precious stones were interwoven in his hair and beard. On his chest, arms and fingers was plenty of golden jewelry – chains and armlets and rings – all beset with rubies, emeralds, opals and other gemstones. His heavy garments were dark and also embellished with golden thread and thick fur.

The dwarven King looked like a statue of rock and gold in his own right.

He did not rise from his throne, and only answered the Elvenking's bow with a nod of his head, and then the two Kings stood facing each other.

Dain narrowed his distrustful eyes, examining the creature before him for a long moment before he finally spoke. "It is not common for elves to walk inside a mountain", he said curtly. "They say you like best the tree and grass and sun".

Irritation began to boil beneath Thranduil's skin, but he did not let it show. "It is so, lord Dain. Still, we chose to leave the tree and grass and sun behind", he said, intentionally using the dwarf's words, "for we are here to discuss a matter of grave importance".

The piercing glare Dain received from the elf prompted him to leave words that touched upon insult aside for now and play along. "Yes, I know of that. You have made your intentions clear in your letters, Elvenking. And I have agreed to receive you in my halls, and talk with you", he said in a controlled manner. "For that I, Dain, King Under the Mountain, welcome you to the glorious kingdom of Erebor", he announced in a booming voice, which echoed in the abysmal chasms beneath them, rising from his high seat and spreading his massive arms wide.

The elves remained silent, as the resonating echoes brought a chill of discomfort in their bodies. True enough, they, too, dwelled in a cavernous abode, but it was carved and made after the elven fashion, and everything was in attunement with nature, so that it felt warm and welcoming to the elves. Here, it was the opposite. The halls of the dwarves were enormous, too high their ceilings and too deep their bottoms. Everything was cut in sharp geometrical shapes, cold and stern, and sought to impose their grandeur and magnitude on the unsuspecting visitor. Nothing here reminded the elves of trees or flowers, of birds or animals. It was a kingdom of stone and stone alone (and gold, of course), for the ones who made it were children of the rock, as if born of the living mountain itself.

"Thank you, King Under the Mountain", responded Thranduil, deliberately using the dwarf's title. "We are grateful for your hospitality".

Dain nodded, and then remained silent for a while, examining the faces of the elves behind the Elvenking. There were two elven lords and two elven ladies. One of the male elves was dark-haired, his expression was stern, his gaze fixed ahead of him, and his posture firm and upright; the dwarven King guessed that one was an officer. The other was of fairer colors, his countenance was softer and more compliant, and had his hands loosely clasped in front of him. _That definitely looks like a councilor,_ thought Dain. Next to that elf stood a lady with hair black as night and intelligent grey eyes, which discreetly surveyed the hall and the faces around her. An aura of wisdom and confidence surrounded her _. Now this one must be watched, for she looks clever, and is surely prone to machinations,_ thought the dwarf with suspicion. His cunning eye then fell to Tauriel, who was standing to the back of the elven host and with her eyes cast low. He had not seen her before, but he noticed how some dwarves had greeted her with nods and pleasant smiles as the elves had walked in.

Dain then leaned towards Dwalin, who stood close to the throne, since he was a noble and honored dwarf. He murmured some words and asked a few questions to which Dwalin answered. The dwarves did not speak loudly but neither did they whisper, and the elves could hear them, but they understood not what they said, for they spoke in _Khuzdul_ , the secret language of the dwarves.

Then King Dain turned to the elves again, who were still patiently waiting on the platform before his throne. "My cousin Dwalin here says the red-haired elf from your company is known to him", he said, and the elves looked at him with surprise. More than anyone else was Tauriel surprised, for she had not expected to be made into a topic of discussion during the reception.

But Thranduil retained his composure, for this was exactly the reason why he had taken Tauriel along. "She is Tauriel, a Captain in the Guard of our realm", he responded by introducing her, and gestured for the elleth to walk forth. She obediently complied, and bowed before the King of Erebor.

"My lord Dain", she greeted him.

"Dwalin tells me you knew Kili, a nephew of my late cousin Thorin, during my kin's captivity in Mirkwood. He says you helped save his life once, healing him with your elven medicine, and you even fought against the orc leaders to save his life in the end, although you failed", said Dain and regarded Tauriel with interest.

"Yes, my lord, it is so", she confirmed the truth in his words, and sadness flooded her heart once more at the bitter memory.

"A friend to my people is a friend of mine", the dwarven King declared, and at that time Thranduil felt as if he had just won a small victory, and his heart felt a bit lighter. "You are welcome here, Captain Tauriel, and you will be shown the utmost respect by all of my people. You have my word on that", ended Dain and even smiled a fraction.

"Thank you, my lord", Tauriel said reverently and bowed again, before returning to her position behind the other elves.

The dwarven King then turned to his right and motioned for a young dwarf to walk forth. "Allow me to present to you Thorin Stonehelm, my son and heir", he said with unadulterated pride in his eyes and voice.

"My lord Elvenking", said Thorin and bowed before him.

"Prince Thorin", responded Thranduil and bent his head slightly.

The Elvenking observed the dwarven Prince for a while. Now Thorin looked nothing like Dain. He was not red-haired like his father, but nearly blond, and a bit taller as well. His hair and beard were well-groomed and neatly braided, and he wore exquisite garments. However, he was not drowned in gold as much as the King. Thorin had remained silent till now. He was of a more reserved nature and had a kind look about him. To Thranduil he seemed an overall quite likable creature, and he only hoped his epithet did not refer to his brains.

The Prince of the dwarves returned to his position by his father's throne, and the Elvenking turned his gaze to Dain again. "Lord Dain, I would like to present you with a gift, so that you know we come in good will and are true of purpose".

A flash of curiosity shone in the dwarf's eyes. "What have the elves to give the dwarves that might be of their liking?" he inquired in a challenging tone.

But Thranduil answered not in words, and only gave him a cryptic smirk before turning and motioning for one of the servants, who was standing in the back, to come forward. The young ellon walked up to Dain's throne and knelt, holding an oblong wooden case in his hands, and presented it to the dwarven King.

For the first time Dain was motivated to stand from his seat. He descended the few steps and opened the case. What he saw inside caused his eyebrows to rise to nearly his hairline.

"An elven blade, made of mithril, inlaid with silver and gold, and its handle beset with emeralds and opals", Thranduil described. "I do trust it is to a dwarven warrior's liking, King Dain", he added and gave the dwarf a piercing look.

"It is a fine weapon…" whispered Dain, and took the sword in his hands. He held it aloft and swirled it a couple of times, testing its weight and balance. Obviously pleased and satisfied, he returned it to its case. "A fine weapon indeed", he repeated. "A seasoned warrior can always appreciate a fine weapon. You have my thanks, Elvenking", he said with a smile and slightly bowed his head. Thranduil nodded, pleased that his gift had been well accepted. "Now, what gift would an elf ask of a dwarf?"

The Elvenking was slightly taken aback, for he had not anticipated Dain to use such words. His thoughts traveled to Lothrin's necklace and the white gems, which were still in the possession of the dwarves. But, as much as it pained and angered him, he knew he could not speak of it bluntly, as long as he wished for his exchange with Dain to remain civil.

"I would ask for no material gift. It is only your allegiance that I seek", replied Thranduil in as much a modest manner as he could manage.

"I knew you would say that!" Dain exclaimed in amusement. "But I also know you have a fondness for wine, Elvenking", he said and then gestured for a servant to come forth.

The servant walked to Thranduil, who was waiting with an eyebrow slightly slanted upwards. The dwarf was holding a rectangular metallic chest in his hands, and raised it for the elf to see.

"Peek inside", Dain urged him with a grin.

The Elvenking opened the lid. Inside the chest and resting on a purple velvet cushion was a heavy golden chalice, very intricately carved after the dwarven fashion, and adorned with rubies, sapphires and green garnets.

"Take it as a small token of Erebor's good will", said Dain.

"Thank you, lord Dain. It is admittedly exquisite", Thranduil responded.

And then the servants bearing the gifts were dismissed, and the King Under the Mountain looked at the King of the Woodland Realm again and spoke. "All is now done here. Take your councilors and officers, Elvenking, and go. My guards will show you to your apartments, and my servants will see that you are provided with food and water. Rest today, refresh yourselves, and tonight we shall dine in the Great Chamber of Thror. Tomorrow we shall meet in council", concluded Dain and waved a hand in dismissal.

Dwarven guards then approached the elves and guided them along corridors, over bridges and under arches, until they delivered the guests to their chambers.

Guests they were, but the elves could not help feeling as if they were prisoners of some sort. And that was not so far from the truth, for they were indeed prisoners of the dwarven King's good will.

* * *

As soon as Tauriel entered her assigned room and was left alone, she began to curiously explore it. Quite spacious it was, and followed the fashion of the rest of Erebor. There was a large canopy bed, which looked comfortable enough to her, though a bit short-legged. The same went for the tables and chairs. But this was dwarven furniture, and it was made after their own needs and proportions.

A fireplace was also in the corner, and it was lit, providing the room with light and warmth. There was no window or opening in the walls, and this was not to the elleth's liking. A few light-crystals were on the walls, adding some eerie ambient light to the room. Thick carpets covered the cold stone floor, and various ornaments made from precious metals and ores decorated the room, but there was not even a hint of green or leaf or flower anywhere. It took Tauriel a while to get used to her new surroundings.

There was also an adjoining chamber, and a small pool in the middle of it. Tauriel noticed there was a fixture just above the ledge of the pool, and a hollow, rolling sound could be heard beneath the rock. With her interest picked, she pulled the lever of the fixture, and at once a shutter opened and hot water splashed into the pool, beginning to fill it at a steady pace. _Amazing,_ she thought, and pulled the lever again towards the other side. The shutter fell shut and the water flow ceased. Soon the water was drained away by a hole on the pool's bottom.

The dwarves were renowned for their technology and their devices, but experiencing their achievements firsthand was another matter completely. Tauriel felt an even deeper level of respect for their hosts now.

Enthusiastically, she plugged the drain and pulled the lever once more, and while the pool was being filled, she walked to the nearby cabinet and opened it. Inside it she found a few sponges, various soaps and oils, and even some dried herbs in small, clay containers. She chose from those the ones that were most to her liking, and then walked to the pool and undressed.

The bath she enjoyed afterwards was the best she had had in a very long time.

Relaxing in the warm and fragrant water, she allowed the tension to leave her muscles, and thoughts of their earlier reception came to her mind. Dwalin had recognized her, but this should not have surprised her. That was the reason why, after all, Thranduil had asked of her to join the negotiating party. He counted on her presence to win some favor among the dwarves, and, apparently, his plan had been successful so far.

Thinking of Thranduil, she wondered how he might be feeling right now. Surely walking into the dwarven kingdom had not been so easy or pleasant for him, especially in the knowledge that it would be very hard to convince Dain to join their cause. Furthermore, the dwarves still had the white gems of Lasgalen in their possession. After all these years, no talk of returning them to the Elvenking had ever been made.

Suddenly Tauriel was overcome with the intense desire to see Thranduil. Finishing with her bath, she jumped out of the pool and dried herself hastily. As soon as she was dressed and ready, she walked to the doors. A servant was waiting outside.

"Could you convey a message to my King, please?" she asked him.

"Aye, I can do that", answered the dwarf.

Tauriel smiled. "Please ask him if it would be possible that I have an audience with him now".

"Alright", said the helpful dwarf and left.

Tauriel waited with impatience, but it was not long before he returned. "He says he will see you, and ordered me to bring you to his rooms. Come, my lady", the dwarf told her.

Tauriel followed the dwarf and he took her to Thranduil's apartments. He knocked on the door and the Elvenking opened it.

"The lady Tauriel is here, lord Thranduil", announced the dwarf.

"Thank you, Narvi. You may leave us now", the Elvenking told him, and the one called Narvi bowed and left.

Tauriel walked inside her lover's chambers. They were more regally decorated and fit for a King, but otherwise quite similar to her own rooms.

"Why did you wish to see me? Is something amiss?" he wondered with a hint of concern in his tone.

"No… I simply wanted to see you… to see how you are doing", she replied in a soft voice.

Thranduil smiled and the lines of worry on his face eased. He came and stood opposite her, and then took her hands in his.

"I am fine. I dislike the dwarves, but I am fine", he reassured her.

"King Dain was not so polite at first", she observed.

"I expected him to be like that. He could have been much worse, mind you. Were he not bound by laws of propriety, he would have been happy to toss insults to my face, I am sure", said Thranduil with a half-smile and sighed.

"Which you would be happy to return, I guess", Tauriel teased him.

"Absolutely", he replied dryly and kept a serious façade for a moment before bursting into laughter.

Tauriel rushed into his arms, overwhelmed by the warm feelings of bliss his laughter evoked in her. "I love you…" she whispered against his chest.

Thranduil was slightly startled by her reaction, but soon his expression became gentle and loving, and he cradled her in his arms tenderly. "And I you, meleth nin. As you see, there is no reason for you to be worried".

"Yes, but I had to make sure for myself", she said and pulled a little back to look into his eyes.

"Come, let us sit a while", Thranduil said and walked to the bed. He sat on its edge and invited her to sit beside him. "Since it is your first visit here, may I ask, how do you like Erebor?" he asked her, curious to learn of her impression.

"It is grand and majestic, but very unlike our home. It may be rich and glorious, but it is dark and cold… I do not think I could survive long the absence of anything natural, were I to live here", Tauriel replied.

The Elvenking nodded in agreement. "It has ever been so. In the past I would quite often visit Erebor, until things went awry with the dwarves. There was a time when our peoples were friends and cooperated, but alas, these times are long gone", he lamented and his gaze grew dark and thoughtful.

"The future may be brighter", said Tauriel and squeezed his hand. "Steps towards that direction are already taken, and you yourself have taken them, Thranduil".

"Yes", he acknowledged the fact, "but there is still much animosity between elves and dwarves, there is much hatred still harbored in our hearts. And I do not blame the dwarves alone or their King, for I despise him as much as he despises me".

"You need not love him, just tolerate him long enough for the allegiance to be sealed", Tauriel offered.

"If only it was so simple, Captain", he wished solemnly.

Tauriel raised her hand and caressed Thranduil's silver strands. "Do not lose hope".

He turned to face her. "I do not… But I have to be realistic in my expectations, and Dain is very unlikely to agree to march southwards with us".

Tauriel then rose from the bed and came to stand in front of Thranduil, taking his face in her hands. He lifted his eyes to look at her, and she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

"Do not let your heart feel sorrow, for the negotiations have not even began, and the outcome is not yet decided", she told him in a deep and emotional voice.

For a long moment he gazed into her eyes, and then finally he nodded and sighed, allowing his head to rest against her abdomen. She held him close, and leisurely, soothingly stroked his silken hair until he was calm.

"Do you see how much I need you? How weak I am without you?" he asked her in a low voice, taking her hand and guiding her to sit in his lap.

"It is alright to admit your vulnerabilities and even reveal them to those who truly love you", she told him and brought her arms around his shoulders. "This is how we know each other better, how we help and support each other, how our love grows deeper and stronger".

"You speak wisely, my love", he said and kissed her temple, bringing his hand to thread through her soft curls. "It is a relief for me that I can be simply Thranduil in your presence, and not the mighty Elvenking the others fear. And for that I love you even more, if possible".

Tauriel smiled. "It is this Thranduil that I came to know, when you slowly began revealing your heart and your mind to me, and finally came to love", she whispered.

He wound his arm around her waist, holding her closer still. "It is your love that keeps me going, Tauriel, and guides me to make the right decisions for our people… Like the decision to march against Dol Guldur. For years you insisted that we have to attack the evil in its heart, but my detachment and indifference towards the rest of the world kept me stubbornly blind for too long. No more", he said in a low but steady voice, and his brow furrowed with resolve.

"It is never late to change your ways. We both admitted the mistakes we have made, and are moving towards a new life now", Tauriel said warmly.

"Yes… but I must confess to you that this future of ours troubles me lately… especially in the face of this campaign now", the Elvenking said and his countenance grew grimmer. "Many disquieting thoughts come to my mind. Our love is amongst these thoughts", he murmured.

"What do you mean?" she wondered, beset by fear.

Thranduil inhaled deeply. "It happens often, when I think of our future, that I remember Elrond's vision. I have never spoken to you about it, have I?"

"No, you have not…" Tauriel's face grew serious and her eyes searched his.

He nodded. "The last time I was in Imladris, Elrond told me he looked into my future… He saw you and me walking hand in hand towards a marble altar, and we were dressed in white and crowned with flowers", he narrated.

"A wedding?" she asked with a weak smile.

"Probably… But then thorns appeared on our path, and we bled until our garments turned crimson, and the altar looked ever distant and unapproachable", the Elvenking ended and a deep frown descended upon his brow. Tauriel's expression was also a grave one now.

"These words are unsettling… It does not sound good at all, Thranduil", she whispered, while a sense of foreboding washed over her.

"I know. I dream of marrying you and living my life with you by my side, but what if it is not to happen? What if there is no happiness for us in the end of our path?" he wondered with dread and looked at her with troubled eyes.

Tauriel stood from his lap and paced around the room. Her heart felt heavy, for she understood why Thranduil was so worried and upset by Elrond's vision.

"You believe the vision may have to do with the expedition we are planning, do you not? You fear the thorns and blood may come true", she speculated.

"Yes", he plainly answered. "I admit I thought little of the vision up till recently, when I started planning this campaign, while having our union in the back of my head. The signs align, I cannot ignore them. But I will not change my mind about anything either. We must march against Dol Guldur before it is too late for our realm, and for our world. But I dread what the personal cost might be", he confessed and hung his head.

Tauriel sighed and knelt beside him. "My love, we shall walk this path together, whatever the future may bring. That black and evil fortress must be assailed and its forces decimated. If we must bleed in the process, then bleed we shall", she spoke with determination and courage.

"My sweet love, you are young and ignorant of real war. I have fought countless battles, and suffered many losses. I could not lose you… Never!" he cried, and his brow was furrowed with tension.

"You will not lose me. I promise", she told him softly and dropped a sweet kiss on his lips.

" _You will never lose me… I promise…" Lothrin said to him and smiled brightly. "Do not be silly, my love. I am as skilled with a sword as you, if not more", she teased him and pushed him backwards on the makeshift bed, leaning on top of him._

 _Thranduil pushed her gently off of him. "Not now, sweetheart. There are soldiers outside", he reminded her._

 _Lothrin laughed. "Ever the proper you are!"_

" _I must be, if you are determined not to be!" he said and gripped her by the waist, holding her close and proceeding to kiss her deeply._

 _But after they had kissed, he looked at her solemnly once again. "I was not jesting, Lothrin. I cannot lose you. Please, promise to heed my command on the battlefield and not to be too bold. Everyone knows of your valor; you need not prove anything. But I need you alive and by my side for many centuries to come"._

 _Lothrin smiled lovingly and touched his cheek with her white fingers, gazing deep into his starlit eyes before planting a feathery kiss on his lips. "Alright, I promise. I promise I will remain close to you and make sure you are safe"._

And she had kept her promise. She had made sure he was safe.

Thranduil awoke from his reverie and found Tauriel gazing at him with a slightly perplexed look.

"Where are your thoughts traveling, mell nin?" she inquired softly.

"A memory from the past came to me when I heard your words…" he began with a sigh.

"Lothrin…" Tauriel realized.

"Yes", Thranduil nodded. "She used to speak to me those same words, making promises she knew she could not keep. Please, Tauriel, my love, do not do the same", he begged her, holding her hands and looking at her intensely.

She was stricken speechless for a while, not knowing how to respond to his plea.

"Alright… no more such promises…" she uttered with uncertainty, wishing to appease him.

He nodded and then shook his head. "I should not have spoken of the vision. I ruined your mood and loaded a burden in your heart, when it was least needed. You came here to see me and I-"

"And you opened your heart to me", Tauriel interrupted him. "I will not have you apologize for that. We are here to share everything, Thranduil. How many times must I tell you this? If we do not speak to each other of our fears and troubles, then who will we speak to?" she reprimanded him in a mild tone.

He managed a small smile. "You are right…"

"Of course I am. As I was right to come and see how you are doing, because I have just discovered you are not truly well, even though you try to appear so", she told him and gave him a sharp look.

"Please, do not scold me, my love. My heart is old and tired and fragile; I do not have your endurance and strength when it comes to that", he whispered in a defeated tone.

Tauriel's heart went out for him, and she sought to embrace him tenderly. "I do not scold you… But, I implore you, listen to me. Cast these dark thoughts aside now. There may come a time when we will be faced with the fulfilment of lord Elrond's vision, but this time is not now. Now we are in Erebor, and we are surrounded by pig-headed dwarves we must face and persuade to join us. You had better think of King Dain and how to present your arguments to him tomorrow morning. The battles will not come for some months still, if they come at all", she concluded and looked at him intensely.

Thranduil took a deep breath and sat upright, somewhat pacified by her words. "You are right, once again. My thoughts have gotten ahead of me. I must concentrate on the here and now. Thankfully, I am not alone in my work…" he murmured and gently cupped Tauriel's face.

"Nor are you in your life", she added, and leaned close to kiss him on the lips for the first time since their shared night in Dale.

It was as if a bolt of lightning shot through his body when her lips touched his, and with a sudden surge of love and passion he took her in his arms in a tight embrace, and kissed her with abandon and desperation.

Their clothes were shed very quickly and remained carelessly scattered on the stone floor, as the two elves moved in the short but plush dwarven bed. Limbs tangling, tongues searching and senses reeling, their lovemaking was ardent and hurried, forceful and needy, almost desperate. They joined and clung on each other with such passion and intensity, as if this was the last time they were together and there was no tomorrow for them.

Breathless they lay afterwards atop the wrinkled sheets, bodies still huddled close and glistening with sweat. Tauriel turned to look at Thranduil, whose face seemed now a whole lot more relaxed than earlier, as his eyes were half-closed and his lips slightly parted. She observed him for a while: how his chest rose and fell in gradually slower and more even breaths, how the excess warmth left his body and the flush on his chest disappeared, how his manhood returned to its unaroused state.

She extended her hand then and lightly traced his chest with her fingertips, attracting his attention and causing him to turn his face towards her. A small smile crept on his lips, and it was a smile of contentment and satisfaction. Tauriel smiled back at him fondly.

"This was nice… and quite unusual", he murmured lazily.

"Yes…" she agreed. "We usually love each other slowly, taking our time and not rushing to meet our pleasure. But this was a welcome alternative", she commented.

"Yes, it was…" he said and leaned close for a chaste kiss.

Tauriel responded and the kiss did not remain chaste for more than a few seconds, but she had to break it, when he started advancing on her again. He gave her a questioning and almost disappointed look.

"I am sorry to ruin it for you now, but I feel obliged to remind you of lord Dain's glorious dwarven dinner in the Great Chamber of Thror", she told him, trying to suppress a mirthful chuckle.

The Elvenking fell back on the mattress with a groan of displeasure. "I had nearly forgotten about that!" he exclaimed.

"And that is why I had to remind you", said Tauriel. "Come now, we still have some time ahead of us. Let us bathe. Have you taken notice of the dwarven facility for warm water?" she asked him with a challenging grin as she stood from the bed, and he looked at her with curiosity, raising one eyebrow.

Laughing softly, she disappeared in the adjoining chamber, and Thranduil followed right after her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Thranduil walked into the Great Chamber of Thror dressed in majestic robes made of black velvet and embroidered with a floral silver pattern. A matching silver cloak of similar design was draped on his shoulders, and on his head he wore his winter crown that glistened almost silver. Behind him followed the rest of the elven assemblage, and all of them were dressed in their finest.

The entrance of the Elvenking was preceded by a special announcement and received with a collective bow of all the dwarves present. Then he crossed the hall with his chin held high and moved to sit in his appointed chair on the right of King Thror's high seat, who had not yet appeared. The rest of the elves sat next to their King, with the nobility placed closer to him and followed by Tinuven and Tauriel. Dwarves were very strict when it came to the written (or even unwritten) laws of hierarchy.

A few minutes later all chatter in the great hall ceased, as the arrival of the King Under the Mountain was announced. All sets of eyes turned to their King, who proudly walked inside, bearing all his royal decorations and insignia. Like the reception, he was once again shimmering golden, and wore dark blue robes of heavy and expensive materials.

As soon as he took his seat, music and song ensued in honor of him. The songs were very different to what the elves were used to, for the dwarves sang slower tunes in their deep, baritone voices, which almost made the floors and walls reverberate. Their dances were also very different from the elven ones; they lacked in grace, agility and flowing motion, but seemed stricter of move, carefully planned and aptly executed, as if they consisted of combat moves, practised over and over again until perfection. The dancers, male all of them, conveyed a message of power and discipline, of physical strength, of determination and unyielding resolve – the characteristic traits of their race.

Tauriel watched the dancing dwarves with marvel in her eyes, for she found herself not appalled but rather enamored by the sight, although it was strange and foreign to her elven senses. Inadvertently, the image of a dancing Kili was formed in her mind, and a deep feeling of longing awoke in her heart. Had he not died at the orc's hands, he would be here now, a Prince – or even a King – in his own right; a benevolent and warm-hearted Prince, who would surely work a lot more laboriously than Dain towards the reconciliation between elves and dwarves. And that would be mostly due to his love for Tauriel.

Thinking of the long-dead dwarven Prince and the affection she once held for him, her mind drifted to a scene from the past, distant and yet so meaningful to her.

" _Tauriel…" Kili called at her, lingering on the shore, but his kinsmen were making ready the boat and insisted that they went._

" _They are your people… You must go", she told him and made to leave._

 _But then he called at her again. "Come with me! I know how I feel; I am not afraid", he declared with passion, and she looked at him with a faint trembling in the depths of her eyes and a fluttering heart. "You make me feel alive"._

" _I cannot…" she sighed, pain written all over her features, and averted her gaze._

" _Tauriel… Amralime…"_

 _Her lips parted in awe, as she realized the meaning of his words. "I do not know what that means", she told him, however, still in denial of her own feelings._

 _He smiled at her fondly. "I think you do"._

The change of tune as the song ended and another began disrupted Tauriel's musings. This was a sweet memory; it was the confession of Kili's love.

But where would she be? What would she have done, had Kili survived?

She would have, perchance, continued her romantic relationship with him, for she was sure that he, at least, would have pursued it with all his might. And she would come to live in Erebor, eventually. But for how long would she be able to suffer a living beneath the rock and away from the sun, the trees and the animals? Not for long, she was certain. And what of Kili's kin? She would definitely have been frowned upon by many. She would be a traitor amongst her own people, and an outsider here in Erebor. Perhaps she would manage, one way or another and against all odds, to be happy with Kili for a couple of centuries _. A couple of centuries._ But Kili would ultimately die one day. And then what?

Tauriel sighed and blinked, attempting to chase these disturbing thoughts from her head. Had things gone differently in the past, she would have probably never gotten the chance to truly know and love Thranduil. And she would not exchange the love they shared now for all the gold in Erebor.

Speaking of whom, he certainly did not share in Tauriel's appreciation for the dwarven singing and dancing skills and habits, but he maintained an even expression nonetheless, pretending to at least be watching the festivities.

"Well, Elvenking, what have you to say about the wealth of Erebor?" Dain asked him with a prideful smirk and gestured around.

Thranduil let his gaze travel all around the hall. It was as he remembered it, and even more glorious now. The gold inlays and carvings on the walls had been restored completely and some new ones had also been added. The lighting was enhanced with more lamps and glowing crystals, which were cut in triangular shapes. Huge flags hung from the arches, bearing the crest of Erebor. Everything in the hall served to display and magnify the dwarven King's glory.

It was all so bold and impressive, and had nothing to do with the elven celebrations, which were much more refined, with their elegant dances and the melodious songs, a hymn to nature and its elements in general.

"Erebor is wealthy indeed", he finally answered, and reached for his goblet of wine.

"Aye, and getting wealthier still", said Dain.

Thranduil felt somewhat vexed by the dwarven King's boasting. He never understood why the dwarves felt such need of displaying their riches and bragging about them. He, too, liked jewels and gems and other precious materials, and was often possessed by greed for accumulating wealth and treasure, but he preferred to be a lot subtler and discreet in his ways. However, these were dwarves, and they were not meant to be understood by elves.

"If only this process is not inhibited", he commented dryly.

Getting his meaning, Dain frowned. "I will see that it is not".

Thranduil tilted his head to the side and raised his cup, prompting his counterpart to do the same and drink to that.

Dain mirrored the Elvenking's move, but the frown on his face remained. "Eat and drink and make merry now, elf, for tomorrow you might not be smiling", he warned.

Thranduil shot him a sharp side-glance. "Nothing is predetermined. Do not assume to know the outcome".

But the dwarven King's attitude was not in the least affected. "As I said, Elvenking, eat and drink and make merry. I may have agreed to exchange words with you, but I will never draw sword beside you", he told him and turned his eyes to the crowd ahead.

Thranduil swallowed his irritation. "You have done so once already, may I remind you", he told him, referring to the battle before Erebor's gates.

"It was simply because I had little say in the matter", Dain said and downed his wine. "The orcs were upon us, and that filth I despise even more than elves", he explained in a bitter tone. "But things are different now", he added afterwards. "The decision is mine to make".

"Yes, and I will ask of you to choose wisely", Thranduil told him in an imperative voice. "I will say no more now, but, I beseech you, listen to what I have to say tomorrow".

Dain simply nodded in indifference, and then waved his hand, as if in dismissal of the subject. "Look at those lads over there. See how they are dancing? Can elves dance like that?" he provoked Thranduil and gestured towards a group of dancers in front of them.

It was clear to the Elvenking that Dain sought to irritate him further by expressing his dislike towards him and the elven race in general. "Our ways are different", he plainly answered and drank from his wine, not wishing to play the dwarf's game.

"I bet you pointy-eared princesses have different ways indeed, eh?" he asked rudely and elbowed Thranduil in a conspiratorial manner.

The Elvenking's eyes widened at the profound insult and the uncalled-for gesture, and it took all his restraint not to strangle Dain then and there. "I ask of you to watch your words, lord Dain", he spoke from between gritted teeth.

"Easy to take offense, are you not, Elvenking? Ha!" a slightly intoxicated Dain laughed at his face, and banged his fist on the table, while Thranduil stared at him with a furrowed brow. "You must learn to appreciate dwarven jokes, elf, if you want my people as allies", he added.

"I am not used to the crudeness of dwarven jokes", replied the Elvenking wryly.

"Ah yes, so unlike the tasteless elven jokes, which you can barely laugh with", retorted Dain.

Thranduil averted his gaze in frustration. For every word he might utter, Dain was sure to come up with a quirky riposte. It was fruitless to continue arguing with him in this manner. And he did not want to anger him, because he was, after all, their host, and important negotiations were to take place tomorrow.

He turned to Iaurvir, choosing to ignore Dain, and inwardly wished for this tiresome and annoying dinner to be over as quickly as possible.

* * *

At the other end of the elven seats some dwarves had gathered now, eager and curious to speak with Tauriel, and she welcomed their presence with a smile.

"I heard you saved Kili once", said one.

"And they say you loved him, too", said another.

"Did he love you back?" asked a third.

Tauriel was almost overwhelmed by their blabbering and ceaseless comments and questions, but she could not deny to herself that she somewhat enjoyed being the center of attention of these simple dwarves.

"Well yes…There had been some affection between Kili and me", she replied.

"Now that is so peculiar!" commented the first one, a blond and kindly-looking dwarf. But then suddenly he sat upright and cleared his voice. "By Mahal, how rude we are! We came here asking questions to the lady Tauriel and we have barely introduced ourselves properly!"

"Aye, aye", agreed the other two.

"I am Unar son of Asnar, and these are my brothers, Gunar and Runar", he said and presented the two other dwarves, apparently younger and slightly darker in color than him.

Tauriel smiled pleasantly, for she enjoyed the rhyme and simplicity of the dwarven names, and how brothers tended to share similar-sounding names.

"Nice to meet you, Unar, Gunar and Runar", she told them gently.

"Our King said you are an honored guest in his halls", said Runar, the youngest of the three.

Tauriel nodded modestly. "And for that I am thankful".

While she kept conversing with the dwarves, Tinuven next to her watched her with an annoyed and slightly arrogant gaze. What did those dwarves want with her? Why did they keep pestering her?

"Captain Tauriel", he barked her title, wishing to attract her attention.

She turned to him with a startle. "My lord Tinuven?"

"I see you are well engaged in chat with those dwarves. What have they to say that might be so interesting to an elf?" he asked bitterly.

Tauriel frowned. "The dwarves are our hosts, and we are in their kingdom now. I am simply showing them the respect they deserve. And if you took the time to speak with them, you would see they are not the simple and idiotic creatures you think them to be, my lord Commander", she responded, glaring at him.

He shrugged with indifference. "I care not much for their ways, only for their allegiance and their competence in battle. If you can ensure that, then keep chatting with them. Otherwise, there is no need to shame yourself further by sharing in their jokes", he told her curtly and turned the other way, signaling he wished to speak to her no more.

Tauriel huffed in aggravation. Why did Tinuven need to be so bluntly offensive and irritating now? Was it because he simply disliked the dwarves, or because he disliked her as well?

"Your friend does not seem happy", said Unar. "I know not what he said, but his tone was harsh, lass".

Tauriel looked at the friendly dwarf and managed a small smile. Elves and dwarves were so different; the elves were creatures of nature, of magic and wisdom and high intellect, careful and refined in their ways, endowed with silver tongues and immortality, whilst dwarves were mortal creatures, much simpler in their ways, who preferred to live in small communities in their dark halls of stone, and loved gold and jewels above all other things. But Tauriel could not feel the same aversion the rest of her kind felt for the dwarves, and, apparently, they did not seem to dislike her either. The sympathy was mutual.

"Oh well, do not mind him", she answered. "He is a high officer and used to strict manners", she spoke in defense of Tinuven's behavior.

The dwarves shook their heads. "Aye, those of the army can be like that and worse, regardless of the race", said Gunar and the others murmured their agreement.

"But we have tired you with our prattle, lass. Forgive us. Our curiosity got the best of us. My brothers and I wish you a pleasant stay in Erebor, and do not hesitate to call upon us, should you need anything", Unar said, and then the three dwarves stood and bowed clumsily to Tauriel.

"Unar, Gunar and Runar at your service, lass", said Runar humbly.

She laughed merrily. "My good friends, you have my gratitude. Your kindness warms my heart. May your days be blessed with prosperity and good health".

The dwarves muttered their thanks in awkwardness and humility, and then made to leave, stumbling upon one another, and grunting among themselves, blaming each other for their carelessness.

Tauriel watched them for a while, until they disappeared into the crowd, and then turned her face towards Tinuven.

"My lord Tinuven", she called at him, and he turned. "What was that about earlier?" she demanded.

"You are the one familiarizing with and befriending dwarves, and you are asking me what this is about?" he countered indignantly.

"What is wrong with speaking to them?" she asked, her ire rising now.

"They are _dwarves_ ", he spat.

"And we are elves. So what?" she defied him, crossing her arms before her chest. "Are you implying that we cannot co-exist civilly?"

"It is not an implication, Captain. Those days of civil and peaceful co-existence are over. They ended when they betrayed us, guided by their blind greed and vain pride. The only reason we tolerate them now is because we are all facing a far greater and more hateful enemy, and we cannot afford the free peoples to be divided. Other than that, we have nothing in common with those cave-dwellers and jewel-mongers", he replied angrily.

Tauriel sighed in frustration. It was clear that Tinuven shared the same views of superiority like many others of her kin. Thranduil himself did not think very differently of the dwarves either. It was likely that he would have agreed with Tinuven now, had he listened to their dialogue.

"I advise you to behave like the rest of us", the Commander spoke again, albeit in a calmer voice.

"I did nothing shameful", the elleth protested.

"Your dealings with the dwarves have a long history. They shame us. They shame our King", Tinuven said.

"Speak not for the King, but for yourself only", Tauriel warned him with a glare.

Tinuven dismissed the comment with a snort.

Then she could take it no more. "Why all this, my lord Tinuven? Why are you being so hostile towards me? I do not recall ever having harmed you", spoke Tauriel with a hint of despair and complaint in her tone, for she felt she was being treated unfairly.

Tinuven gave her a good and thorough look. "I do not trust traitors", he told her in a low voice and with narrowed eyes. Tauriel's lips parted in shock. "Our King may have forgiven you and welcomed you back, but who is to say you are not planning another treachery?" he asked, threateningly leaning towards her.

Tauriel turned her face from him and swallowed hard. Tears were rising in her eyes, and she fought hard not to let them spill. "I assure you, my lord, I plan nothing of the sort", she managed in a trembling voice. "I love our King as much as you do, if not more", she added weakly, and a single tear escaped her control and marked its way down her cheek.

Tinuven gave her a look of disdain, not moved by her emotional distress. "You will have to prove it. Words mean nothing", he said plainly and picked up his goblet.

* * *

It was night when the dinner ended and the guests returned to their rooms. Tauriel quickly retreated into hers, bidding a hasty goodnight to Thranduil and the rest of the elves, avoiding eye contact with them. For she was still feeling sadness and despair because of Tinuven's harsh and uncaring words.

But, what truly pained her, was that his cruel words bore a measure of truth, unfortunately. Her past would never be truly forgotten; the mark of the traitor would never be truly erased from her story. No matter how many times Thranduil proclaimed to have forgiven her, there would always be a thorn of remembrance in her heart, which could never be uprooted. Even if she cried unnumbered tears of regret, she could never claim she was innocent.

What should she do now? Tinuven's words and reaction was probably just the first in a series that would soon follow, especially after the people learned of her relationship with the Elvenking. Many elves were certain to react in a similar way to Tinuven. How should she face them?

Her initial thought was to run away and hide from the cruelty. But had she not done so sixty years ago, when she fled from her home and sought refuge in Rivendell, feeling scared and unable to face the hostility and scorn of her kin? But she had grown since then. Running away from the problem was not the answer. Facing it was.

Her next idea was to go to Thranduil and tell him what had transpired during the dinner. But should she really burden him more and add to his troubles, now that he needed to maintain a clear mind? Could she not fend for herself? What would she like, him to reprimand his Commander? No, that would be demeaning for all of them. She did not want to look like a schoolgirl, who rushed with teary eyes to her teacher, unable to defend herself. She was an elven warrior, a Captain, not a child.

The lady Meduithel then came to her mind. She had freely offered her support and advice, should Tauriel need it. Was it perhaps time she asked for it?

Tauriel contemplated that option as she lay sleepless in her bed. Meduithel was old and wise and experienced, and she had known Tinuven for a very long time. Furthermore, she knew of her love for the King, and was supportive of it. Maybe she could point her to some direction she could not see for herself now.

The more she thought about talking to the lady, the more agreeable this idea seemed to her. And with such thoughts in her head, she finally fell asleep.

* * *

The following morning marked the beginning of the negotiations. Remarkably, the dwarves met with the elves in that very room they had feasted the day before: the Great Chamber of Thror.

Now the seats were arranged in a different manner. They were placed in a semi-circle, except for Dain's seat, which stood opposite them, so that he could look at all the negotiators.

The Elvenking walked into the chamber followed by Iaurvir, Meduithel, Tinuven and Tauriel. The latter appeared smiling and graceful towards the Commander, as if nothing ill had taken place between them. And Tinuven did not seem bothered either; in fact, he paid very little attention to the Captain.

Thranduil moved to his designated seat with a chilling serenity about him; his head was slightly tilted upwards, his gaze steady and his bearing regal. Dressed in silver-blue robes, he almost glowed like a star. Dain, on the other hand, looked very much earthen; his step was heavy, his eyes searching everybody around him, and he was clothed in dark hues of brown and grey.

The two Kings sat facing each other, while the rest of the elves and dwarves took the rest of the seats.

"Good morning. How are we all? I hope you enjoyed a good rest yesternight", began Dain with feigned interest and pleasantry in his voice. Not waiting for a response, he went on. "To business now. The elves are come here to speak their piece. So speak, Elvenking", he urged his counterpart and waved his hand in the air.

Thranduil's deep and clear voice then filled the vast chamber. "We have come to propose an allegiance to you".

"What kind of an allegiance?" grunted Dwalin, placing his hands on his knees and leaning slightly forward, as if propping the weight of his upper body on them.

"An allegiance against Dol Guldur", replied the Elvenking.

"Speak on", Dain urged him.

"It is my plan to march against the fortress of evil, and decimate the forces of the enemy", he stated, and murmurs started among the dwarves. "Ever since Sauron took residence there a plague has fallen upon the forest", Thranduil spoke on in a somewhat raised tone, so as to silence the whispers. "Even though Sauron has left Dol Guldur and fled to Mordor, three of the Nazgul keep watch over the fortress. They are his lieutenants, and they continue his dark work in secret. Blanketed by darkness, they accumulate power, recruit orcs and breed wargs and spiders for the Dark Lord's cause. It will not be long before they are ready and organized to march against the free kingdoms of the north, while Sauron wages his war in the south. In that light I ask you, lord Dain, to join me in my assault against Dol Guldur", he ended his speech and waited for the dwarf lord's response.

Dain scratched his beard, looking thoughtful. "What is in it for us? Dol Guldur lies far to the south; it is in your forest, not my mountain".

"My lord Dain", lady Meduithel took the floor, and spoke in a mellow voice. "If it is gold or financial profit you seek, you will find none. We do not seek to launch this attack to gain riches. It is the freedom of our realms we wish to protect and preserve. In fact, my people would very much wish there was another way to stall the growing darkness. But alas, this can only be achieved through war".

"Then your people should very well fight. But I repeat, what is in it for us?" Dain insisted, ignoring most of Meduithel's words.

"The preservation of our homes, lord Dain", said Iaurvir.

"The preservation of _your_ homes!" barked the dwarven King. "Not ours".

"Yes, it is true our kingdom has been the first to suffer from the growing Darkness", Thranduil spoke again. "But it will reach you, too, soon enough. We are the first line of defense against the Shadow, and have been so for centuries. But the time is come when we must ask for the assistance of our allies. If we fall, then all of the north shall fall, eventually. In this war we must be united; we must fight as one against the common enemy".

"The great Elvenking asks for help?" Dain mocked him and laughed. "Can you not handle your own, you pointy-eared fairies?" he went on and laughed some more, with the rest of his people following his example and laughing in the face of the insulted elves. Even the timid Thorin laughed along. "Now listen to me, elf King. I have my own battles to fight. The Easterlings keep pestering my guards and my patrols, but I have not asked for your help. I can manage on my own. I advise you to do the same", he said, pointing a finger towards Thranduil, and then he leaned back in his high seat with a sullen face.

"I have suffered your mockery and insult long enough!" the Elvenking suddenly bellowed, silencing every last laughing dwarf and causing them to freeze in their seats. His eyes had become like liquid fire, and his gaze was like a predator's. Even his own people had not anticipated that reaction. "Thror had once made the mistake of not listening to my forewarning. You all know very well what followed", he spoke on in a slightly calmer tone. "Once, sixty-one years ago, you saw with your own eyes what the forces of the enemy can achieve, if they are placed under able commanders. And those commanders were mere orcs! Have you any idea what a Nazgul, what a Ringwraith is?" Thranduil hissed. "They are ancient spirits of evil, once high Kings of men corrupted by Sauron, and turned into his most loyal and terrible servants. Have you any idea what it will be like if not one, but three of them unleash an organized attack against our kingdoms? The destruction will be massive. Wherever they may go, death will follow in their wake. Everyone will perish, man and elf and dwarf alike. Do you understand now what I am talking about, dwarf?" he finished his fiery and angry speech and glared at Dain, who had been listening to him motionless and with a deep frown.

"I will not have you shout at me in my own home! Nor will I have you lecture me!" yelled Dain as he sprang up from his seat. The rest of the dwarves began shouting angrily at the elves, and quickly enough the council chamber was turned into a quarreling one.

Dismayed, Tauriel stood up and moved to the center of the circle. "My lords!" she cried. "My lords, please listen to me!" she cried even louder, despair now lining her voice.

After a few more attempts on her side, the shouting died down and they all turned their eyes to the red-haired elleth, who had called for their attention.

"My good lords, do you not see what we are doing? We are fighting amongst ourselves!" she cried in exacerbation. "We are fighting whilst the enemy grows unhindered". She then turned towards Dain. "My lord Dain, we were both there, before the gates of this mountain, when my people and yours engaged in combat against each other, while the orc armies were marching against us. It was not until their massive numbers covered the slopes that we saw past our differences and fought together for the common cause. Can we not do the same now? Must the enemy reach our doorstep for our fighting to cease?"

The dwarven King grunted and sighed, and collected his wits and his calm before responding. "Lady Tauriel, you are a friend of my kin; you, and you alone of all your people. For this reason, I choose to pay heed to your words, and I say you are right. We fight amongst ourselves while the Shadow grows". He then stood up and looked to the elves. "On these grounds I will not permit this madness to go on. It shames us all. I declare the session ended. Let us take a break and cool our tongues. Eat, drink, take a walk; do whatever you like. We will not speak of this matter until tomorrow".

Everyone exited the room hurriedly, the elves and dwarves exchanging sharp glances but speaking no more words.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Tauriel, come with me".

Thranduil grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards him just before she took the turn that led to her chambers.

She looked at him with a startle, and then glanced around for passers-by. Thankfully, there was none.

"Thranduil?" she uttered with a slightly creased forehead, wondering whether there was any reason she should feel alerted.

"Come with me", he repeated. "I cannot stand the air here. It is stifling; it suffocates me. Walk with me to the rampart".

She examined his face. He looked distraught and unwell. "Alright", she assented.

Soon the two elves were outside the mountain and standing on a high but narrow terrace that overlooked the valley. The lit torches of Dale were visible in the distance, for it was dark already, and the stars were shining up in the sky.

"I could find no rest after the meeting", he confessed and leaned against the cold wall. A chill wind was blowing, tousling their hair and causing stray strands to fall on their faces. "It was disastrous", he sighed.

Tauriel looked around before moving close to him. There was only a dwarven guard at the far end of the rampart, and he was facing away from them, apparently very disinterested in their presence. Feeling quite safe, she brought her body close to his and raised her hand to push the hair from his face.

"I know. I hope it will be better tomorrow", she murmured.

He took a deep breath. "I needed the air. I needed to breathe. This place is killing me, Tauriel. There is so much hate here, so much animosity… and so much memory…" he muttered and turned his eyes to the sky. "Why can we not be free of burden and sorrow? Why must our lives be dark and ruled by evil?" he whispered hopelessly into the night.

"Our lives are not ruled by evil", Tauriel countered.

"Oh, but they are! We live under the constant presence of the Shadow. It has forced us to abandon our forest and retreat into caves like rats… We plan our lives and make our decisions with the fear of evil in our hearts. We will never be free from its claws", he lamented and hung his head. He was almost brought to tears.

"No, mell nin, no… Evil may be present, but it controls neither our lives nor our decisions. Light does. Our free spirits do. And this is why we choose to fight back, and never yield", she spoke fervently, touching and squeezing his arm lightly.

He lifted his eyes and took in her image. She looked like a mirage at that hour, with the light of the stars captured in her emerald eyes and her wild reddish hair dancing around her shoulders with the wind.

Could it be that she was right?

He reached and barely touched the outline of her form with his fingertips, as if he was afraid not to disrupt the vision before him, and it was gone from his eyes.

"Tauriel…" he breathed.

"I am here, my love", she spoke softly and took a step closer to him. "Do not be afraid. You must not lose heart now… We all look to you for strength and courage. And you have never failed us", she told him with a small smile and came closer still, allowing his arms to wound about her body, and herself to disappear in his embrace.

"And who do I look to for strength and courage?" he murmured in her hair and kissed the top of her head. She lifted her eyes and gave him an inquiring look. "You, my love", he answered his own question. "It is your love and your warmth that keeps me going, that gives me hope and fuels my determination. Had it not been for your presence in my life, I would still be a cold and detached King, safe in the confines of his halls and uninterested in the fate of the world".

Tauriel brought her elegant fingers to lightly trace the line of his jaw. "You give yourself so little credit, Thranduil. Our love is perhaps healing your tortured heart, but the decisions you make are yours and yours alone".

"Not perhaps", he noted, and his eyes bore deeply into hers.

A small smile arose on Tauriel's face, and then she rested her head in the crook of his neck. "Hush now… No more dark thoughts. We are gifted with a moment of peace, so let us cherish it", she whispered.

He held her in his embrace, and they stayed like that for a while, neither of them wishing to speak a word, for they were simply content in each other's arms.

Then Thranduil lifted his face. "You spoke well to Dain. Had it not been for your intervention, I know not how this meeting would have ended".

"He listened to me, fortunately. You were right in your decision to invite me along", she said and smiled, caressing his cheek.

He nodded, and then sighed. "I lost my patience with that dwarf. I meant not to, but he kept provoking me since the moment I stepped foot inside that accursed mountain of his! And the dinner yesterday was a nightmare…"

"Indeed it was", Tauriel agreed, but for entirely different reasons.

Thranduil looked at her carefully. "I noticed you looked distraught after the dinner, but I could not speak to you openly in the presence of others. And when we all parted to retreat to our rooms, you bid me just a hasty goodnight, and then you were gone…" There was love and concern in his eyes, and Tauriel inwardly wished that he would not ask her why she had behaved like that. But he did. "I wished to come to you later, but you seemed as if you did not want to be disturbed, and I chose to stay in my room. And today I meant to ask you what happened, but the dealings of the day took their toll on me. Forgive me for not tending to you earlier, my love".

"There is nothing to forgive, Thranduil".

"Come now, tell me why you were so sorrowful yesterday. Had any insolent dwarf insulted you?" he asked.

 _Not an insolent dwarf, but an insolent elf,_ she thought bitterly. But instead of replying to him right away, she disentangled herself from his embrace and paced towards the edge of the rampart. The dwarf guard was still at his position; he had not moved an inch, and in the dark he truly looked like a statue.

Thranduil's arms suddenly felt empty and cold. He looked at her with worry, and slowly walked over to her. "Meleth nin?" he spoke softly. "Will you not talk to me?" he asked and placed a caring hand on her shoulder.

Tauriel gazed into the distance, refraining from replying right away. Their forest, their home, could be seen from here as a massive dark shadow that expanded to the southwest. She contemplated whether to tell him of the incident or not. Initially, she had decided not to. But here he was, expressing so much love and concern, and she was reminded of her own words, that they should share everything.

"No… It was no dwarf that insulted me. I just had a disagreement with Tinuven", she finally confessed, slightly turning her body towards him so that she could face him.

"Tinuven?" Thranduil's brow furrowed. "What was it about?"

"He was displeased that I spoke with some dwarves, that was all", she said and shrugged, not wishing to tell him all of the truth.

"Ah, he dislikes dwarves, I know that. But what did he tell you to frustrate you so?" he insisted, and Tauriel began feeling a measure of discomfort.

"Nothing important", she replied and made to rid herself from his touch.

His hand hovered in mid-air for a second before he lowered it. He knew not why she turned from him, and it pained him. "Tauriel…" he whispered her name.

She looked at him from over her shoulder, and saw the hurt in his eyes. With a sigh she returned to him and rested her head against his shoulder. "I am sorry", she muttered.

Thranduil brought his hand to caress her hair, holding her until her heart was calm again. "It is alright if you do not wish to talk about it", he murmured.

She shook her head. "You need not worry. It is nothing worthy of your concern".

"I believe you", he said. "But if it becomes something I should concern myself with, then please do not hesitate to talk to me".

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you".

"Oh my sweet love… It is I, who should thank you". With that he bent his head and kissed her forehead.

Tauriel smiled up at him, and looking into his eyes made her heart feel a little lighter.

"Let us go inside… It is late, and it is cold out here", she whispered.

He agreed, and the two elves soon disappeared into the dark mountain.

* * *

The session of the following day started in milder tones and more controlled manners. All participants were seated in the same seats as the previous day and waited for the dwarven King to speak.

"Alas, yesterday we all forgot our manners and things went awry. I ask of you all today to keep your calm. Let us begin now", he stated in a loud voice.

Prince Thorin stood and took the floor. "The King of the Woodland Realm made a proposition to us yesterday", he started, glancing around at the gathered elves and dwarves. "You spoke of war and evil brewing in the south, Elvenking", he went on, directing his words to Thranduil now. "What more have you to say about it? What is there to know of Dol Guldur that we may ignore as of yet?"

Pleased with the civilized manners of Dain's son, Thranduil replied thus:

"We once had our capital atop Amon Lanc, the hill which you know today as Dol Guldur. But our people suffered great losses during the battle of Dagorlad, and we were forced to retreat to the northern parts of the wood. Later, Sauron made his residence in the old fortress under the guise of the Necromancer, and he corrupted the forest. After he had been expelled, three of the Nazgul returned and resumed command of the forces there. Ever since their power has been growing, because the power of the Dark Lord himself is growing in Mordor. A dark Shadow has fallen over what was once called Greenwood, forcing us to live our lives away from the light, to become suspicious of outsiders, and to fight daily against orcs and spiders".

Thranduil made a pause here. His expression had grown solemn and thoughtful, for it pained him greatly to recount the fate and travails of his land. The dwarves were looking at him, but no one attempted to mock or even interrupt him. Then the Elvenking spoke on.

"Your kind knows very well what suffering and destruction means. You have once been violently chased from your home. You know what it means to lose what is rightfully yours", he said passionately, and the dwarves nodded and looked at one another.

 _As we know what it means to see your so-called friends and allies turn your back to you and refuse to help you in your most dire hour. I will not forget what you did to my kin, you treacherous elf,_ thought Dain bitterly and shook his head.

"If we allow Dol Guldur to grow uninhibited, the same thing will happen again, sooner or later", Thranduil went on. "And it will happen to all of us. But there will be neither home nor treasure to reclaim afterwards, for it will have all been lost forever".

He paused again, waiting for comments and reactions. Seeing that none would come, Dain waved his hand. "Go on, Elvenking. Say what you will".

He nodded, inhaling deeply before speaking. "Many of you know me already, and may have known me for decades or more. You are aware of my reluctance to engage in wars that are waged beyond my borders", he said, selecting a different and unusual approach, which, nonetheless, attracted the attention of everyone immediately.

 _Unless you want to get your hands on treasure that is not yours, Elvenking,_ thought the dwarven King, but managed to keep with thoughts to himself no matter how much he wished to spit these words to that arrogant elf's face right now.

"But I must admit that my reasoning has been partially erroneous and fruitless", Thranduil said, momentarily closing his eyes and slightly bending his head.

Dain shifted in his seat, not having anticipated such an expression of humility and an admission of error from the Elvenking. What was that elf trying to do? Now he knew not what to expect next, and murmurs of wonderment arose amongst the dwarves. Even the elves exchanged a few surprised glances beneath raised brows.

"For we are not alone in this world, and we cannot survive on our own, cut-off from the rest and isolated", Thranduil continued. "We are already allies in terms of trade and commerce, as well as in the face of a common threat. Well, let me inform you that this threat has presented itself, and it is lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune time to attack us. It waits for us to fall in dissension and discord, to wage wars against each other, and then all it will have to do is extend its black hand, reap the fruit of our foolishness, and erase our existence from the face of this earth", Thranduil warned. "I wish to clarify that I do not seek to start a war without reason. I only seek to take advantage of the narrow space of time before our enemy is ready to launch his assault, and attack him first. In that light, I once more ask for your military allegiance and contribution to our cause", he finally concluded his speech and sat back in his chair. He took a deep breath and exhaled, not having realized till now the anxiety he felt deep inside.

Tauriel looked at him and gave him an encouraging smile. Her eyes were shining with pride and love for him. She had just seen a different Thranduil, a different King, one who sought to fight for the common good, and who was willing to look beyond his own personal ambition and prejudice. Thranduil locked eyes with her for a brief moment, feeling an invisible but strong wave of energy surging between them, connecting them and empowering them, and he even managed to smile faintly.

Oblivious to the elven spiritual goings – not that he would care much, were he able to witness them – Dain tapped his thick fingers on the armrest of his chair, looking deep in thought, as he was contemplating how to respond. After a while he sat upright and cleared his voice, while his eyes gleamed with a peculiar light. "Well then, what they say of the wisdom of the elves is not entirely untrue, after all. You spoke well, Elvenking, I give you that. If you, an isolationist, an arrogant woodland King, who looks down upon everyone else, cannot turn a blind eye to Dol Guldur, and have come up here to warn us and rally us to your cause, then it means there is some serious stuff indeed going on in that old fortress".

Thranduil nodded, choosing to ignore the offensive words Dain's reply contained, for it sounded like he had been at last persuaded. A small smile crept upon his lips, and his eyes were lit with anticipation, as he waited for the dwarven King to speak on.

"Thank you for the warning and the consideration of our welfare. I vow that your courtesy will never be forgotten. We shall make sure Erebor is ready. And I wish you good luck with your cause", Dain said, and even smiled self-contentedly at Thranduil.

Thranduil was stricken speechless for a moment; his brow twitched, his lips parted slightly and his mind raced. What had that dwarf just said?

"What is the meaning of this, lord Dain?" he demanded, now seething inside with anger.

"I spoke clearly. I wish you good luck with your cause, for it is noble indeed", Dain repeated with pretended grace and kindness.

Dwalin and Thorin turned to their King and gave him questioning looks, for they had believed he would have agreed to join the elves' campaign.

"My lord father, this is-" the Prince began, but was interrupted by Dain's raised hand.

"No more words, Thorin".

"Lord Dain! This elf speaks right!" Dwalin bellowed in his deep voice and stood from his seat.

"Do you dare question my authority?" An enraged Dain sprang up and pointed his finger threateningly at his cousin.

"No! I would never presume to do so! I only ask of you to listen to reason!" he cried. "I was here when Erebor fell to the flames of Smaug, and this elf turned his back to our pain and suffering, refusing to help us. And I was captured and thrown into his dungeons together with Thorin Oakenshield, when our company strayed into his black and twisted woods on our way to reclaim our homeland! So I know very well the courtesy of this Elvenking, and there is little love in my heart for him", Dwalin went on, having gained the attention of everyone. "I am telling you this, my King, so that you know my next words are dictated by reason and not sympathy towards the elves. But for his previous conduct, for once Thranduil speaks right. Will we leave the battles to the elves, and cower inside our halls? We are dwarves! We are sons of Durin! We cannot sit idly here, while the elves fight the Shadow for the sake of all of us!" he roared. For even though he was blunt in his ways and held a strong dislike for elves, Dwalin was a noble, brave and very loyal dwarf, who did not hesitate to confront his King, if he thought his decisions were not in the best interest of the dwarves or did not honor their kind.

"Father, this would be shameful for all dwarves!" young Thorin joined in, encouraged by his uncle's bold comments.

"What is this? An uprising? How dare you defy me!" shouted Dain at the top of his lungs, and his voice echoed in the vast chamber.

Chaos ensued then, with the rest of the dwarves of the council taking sides and joining in the upheaval. The elves stood, preparing to make their exit as soon as their King signaled for them to do so.

"End of the session! Do you hear me? I will not suffer your insolence! I declare these negotiations on hiatus until I decide otherwise!" bellowed Dain frantically. "Remove yourselves from my sight! All of you! Now! Now I said!"

Thus ended another disastrous and fruitless meeting between elves and dwarves. So much for King Dain's initial call for civility.

* * *

Dain's rage lasted for several days, as it was wont with dwarves to happen, in the course of which he refused to see or speak to any elf. He would only hold private auditions with his kin, during which they supposedly tried to work out their own disagreements, so that the dwarves could present themselves to the elves under a common banner and not appear inconsistent or even ridiculous.

But these days were long and dreary and pointless for the elves, for they lingered idly in Erebor, waiting for the dwarven King's mood to change. Moreover, these were the last days of winter, and instead of being outside and enjoying nature's rebirth, the elves were confined inside a cold and dark and inhospitable mountain.

But the apparent inertia on the dwarves' side gave the elves the chance to work out their own issues as well. One of these days, Tauriel decided to speak to lady Meduithel about the matter that bothered her.

After asking several guards for directions and information, she found the lady wandering around the internal courtyard of Erebor, which also happened to include a very pretty garden. Who knew such wonderful things could exist inside a mountain?

Tauriel entered through an arched gate, and her eyes marveled at the sight before her. The garden was walled all around, but it was large and beautiful. Various trees, plants and flowers grew in the flowerbeds, and there were wide stone-paved paths in-between them. A natural spring was also to be found, and the dwarves had shaped it beautifully with ledges of black marble. This place was a breath of life for the elf, whose _fea_ longed to be reunited with nature.

She approached the lady, who was seated on a marble bench and holding a book in her hands, her attention seemingly fixed on its pages. She was wearing a deep blue dress and had her hair done up, with loose curls framing her elegant face.

"My lady Meduithel… Good morning", Tauriel greeted her softly.

The black-haired elleth lifted her eyes and smiled gently. "Tauriel… What a pleasant surprise".

The Captain lingered in hesitation for a moment. "I hope I am not disturbing you, my lady".

"Not at all. Come, sit with me", Meduithel invited her.

Tauriel did as she was told and took a seat on the bench beside her.

"Is this not a nice place? A marvel, I would call it", the lady soliloquized. "The lush trees and flowers revive my spirit, and the beams of the sun, faint and dim though they are, warm my heart and rekindle my hope".

"Yes, my lady. It is a welcome oddity, this garden in the mountain", Tauriel agreed.

Then Meduithel looked at the book in her hand, running her fingertips gently over the surface of the open page. "The dwarves have a library as well. It is not extensive or very sophisticated, and there is nothing written in their secret language, mind you… They would never risk Khuzdul being picked up by outsiders. But there is some interesting literature in the westron tongue. This particular book describes the variety of flora in Erebor", she described and smiled again. But then she set the book aside, her face resumed a more serious expression, and she looked at Tauriel. "Tell me now, why have you come to me? For I sense there is a purpose in your coming, and it is not merely idle chat that you seek".

Tauriel took a deep breath. "You are right, my lady. I came here, because I wished to talk to you of something that is troubling me, and I would ask for your opinion and advice".

Meduithel nodded. "I am listening, child".

"It concerns lord Tinuven. He seems to be cross with me lately, for reasons I cannot fully comprehend".

She then proceeded to recount the events of the lunch in the woods, the dinner in Erebor, and a few other occurrences of lesser importance that had transpired between them. At the end of the narration, Meduithel seemed thoughtful.

"Why does he behave like that, when I have never harmed him?" Tauriel wondered with traces of hurt in her tone.

The councilor sighed. "You must understand that Tinuven is very loyal to the King and the realm. Everything he says is not out of malice, but precaution. Still, he is often rash or harsh, even uncouth, in his ways".

"I understand that. I, too, am sometimes like that, and my tongue gets ahead of me. But it still does not explain his displeasure towards me", Tauriel said.

"He is distrustful towards you, Tauriel. You had once been called a traitor". Tauriel's face fell as she heard those bitter but true words. "You were granted pardon later, and most of us have forgiven your thoughtless and reckless actions, following our King's example. But it is not so with all of us. Some, like Tinuven, cannot let go of the past so easily. He is hard to forgive and forget. But, I must repeat, he is not malicious. You simply need to give him time to accept you, and I am sure that your future actions will speak louder than any words, and they will make him see that you are not treacherous. He needs deeds to be convinced of your noble intent, and deeds you shall do plenty", Meduithel explained, and gently touched the other elleth's hand.

But Tauriel was not yet fully convinced, for there was something additional troubling her. "I dread the day he will learn of the love I share with the King. If he dislikes me now as it is, he is going to hate me then", she murmured. "He will see me as false, conceited, presumptuous, and prone to trickery. He will never concede that our love is real".

"No, my young elf. It will not be so. We elves are not blind to a love that is real, though peculiar or odd it might seem. True enough, Tinuven may be a little prejudiced at first, but he will soon see your love for what it is, and he will accept and approve of it. As do I. As will everyone", Meduithel replied, soothing Tauriel's worries.

The lady's words brought memories of the past to her mind. Was it not real the love she had shared with Kili? And Thranduil himself came to acknowledge it in the end, but for his initial disregard of it. _Because it was real…_ His words, few and simple, but so powerful and full of meaning, echoed in her head. It was true; the elves were not blind to real love.

Much of her worry was lifted at this realization, and she inwardly blamed herself for having been unable to see it on her own sooner. But she had been certain that Meduithel would lift her veil of blindness and help her understand some things, and there was comfort and relief in that.

"I wish everyone was so wise and insightful as you, my noble lady", Tauriel whispered reverently, deeply moved by Meduithel's words and kindness.

"Wisdom comes with time and experience. But a noble heart is a gift, and you possess one such", the lady responded.

Tears of emotion arose in Tauriel's eyes. "I hope I prove worthy of your trust and kindness", she uttered in a breathy voice.

"You will", came the simple but assured response.

Tauriel remained silent and thoughtful for a short while, feeling unable to share Meduithel's certainty, for she still held doubts about her own self, and, although she was determined to try, she could not claim to be entirely confident.

"What must I do now? How shall I counter lord Tinuven's words and unfriendliness?" she asked, seeking further guidance.

"As a Queen", stated Meduithel and gazed steadily at Tauriel.

The younger elleth's lips parted slightly, and she slowly regained her composure, forcing herself to sit upright and halt the tears that still brimmed in her eyes.

"Treat him with dignity and respect; do not give in to despair, and do not let his comments touch you. Even if they do, and you find yourself sorrowful and hopeless, do not allow it to show. And day by day he will see who you truly are, what your true purpose is", the councilor advised her. "You cannot afford to show weakness, Tauriel", she went on in a more serious tone. "Have you learned nothing from Thranduil? You have a great King and the most valuable ally and guide by your side. Have you ever seen him show weakness in front of his subjects? Even when he suffered most profoundly, he did not let it show".

"Yes, my lady", whispered the Captain. "I will try to behave so, even though it is all new to me, and I fear I will fail".

"No victory is ever certain, but we must fight nonetheless".

Tauriel cast her eyes to the ground and nodded. The wisdom in Meduithel's words was undeniable. She stood pensive for a while, reflecting on the content of their conversation, until the lady's hand, brushing gently on her hair, pulled her out of her musings. She turned to her and smiled faintly.

"Thank you for your words and advice, my lady. I shall heed it", said Tauriel.

Meduithel nodded and smiled kindly. "You did well to come to me. It is my wish that you know you are not alone. I have also spoke to my husband, and you should know he supports you as well. We are both willing to help you, Tauriel", she informed her.

Emotion overwhelmed the young elleth, and she threw herself in the lady's embrace. "My lady", she cried in a muffled voice.

A warm smile formed on Meduithel's lips, and she gently cradled Tauriel in her arms. Her heart was touched by her impulsive reaction; it was so obvious that this orphaned elleth yearned for motherly love and care, something she had been robbed of at a very young age. Meduithel was not and could not be her mother, but she could afford to show Tauriel a measure of affection, and perhaps even love.

"It is alright, my youngling… Let your heart be calm and free of care. Everything will work out well in the end", the lady soothed her and gently caressed her hair as she held her.

Tauriel lifted her teary but now bright eyes and looked at Meduithel. "My lady…" she whispered again, her voice lined with emotion and gratitude.

Meduithel now held her by the shoulders. "You have taken up a very important, but difficult role, Tauriel. Have courage, my child, and do not lose hope. Thranduil needs you, for his heart is much wearier and more fragile than yours. You have to be strong for both of you".

Tauriel nodded, feeling now more steadfast and determined. "I knew you would dispel my blindness, my lady Meduithel. I know now what I must do. I thank you from the depths of my heart", she told her once more.

The councilor nodded. "Enough tears have been shed today, Captain. For there may come a time of woe and grief, when we shall cry tears uncountable, but today the sun is shining, and we are alive and breathing the air of freedom. Stay with me a while, so that we may enjoy this gentle morning together a little longer".


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Thranduil was wandering the vast halls and the endless spans of Erebor in utter boredom. More than a week had passed since the last and unfortunate meeting of the negotiators, and Dain still showed no sign of changing his mind. There was only some rumor going around that it would not be long before the negotiations resumed, but the days went by and no confirmation came by the King, and Thranduil had begun suspecting this was only a dwarven stall, in order to pacify him and prevent his wrath from erupting.

Offended enough by this behavior, the Elvenking had considered returning to Mirkwood and leaving the dwarves and their King to their obduracy, thus forsaking the possibility of an alliance, but he could not do so without looking contemptuous, for Dain himself had not declared the definite cessation of the negotiations, but only a temporary recess. Were he to just depart, the dwarves would claim he was cowardly and easy to abandon his cause, and he did not want to allow them that wicked satisfaction. Furthermore, he really needed Erebor's allegiance, for the dwarves would make a powerful ally with a great army, discipline on the battlefield, fierceness, fearlessness and readiness to engage any kind of enemy. Thranduil was King of an elven nation, which held a long history of abhorrence towards the dwarves, but he nevertheless acknowledged the dwarven virtues when it came to fighting.

Such thoughts were coming and going in his mind, when by chance he happened upon Prince Thorin. The latter was walking with a purposeful step, holding some folded parchments in his hands, but when he saw the Elvenking he paused to greet him.

"My lord Thranduil", he said and bowed. "I am surprised to see you in these parts of the mountain".

"Prince Thorin", responded Thranduil with a slight inclination of his head. "My presence at this exact location is devoid of purpose, I assure you. For it was just my vague wandering that led me far from my chambers. Alas, I have plenty of leisure time and there is little else to do but wander. However, I cannot not yet claim to know very well my way around your kingdom", he said and motioned to his surroundings.

"It is easy for a stranger to get lost in here. Many places are dark and labyrinthine", Thorin admitted. His face then betrayed a measure of shame and discomfort. "I feel obliged to apologize for my father's indecision, and the lack of entertaining opportunities that might be pleasing to elves. My people excel in story-telling and drinking games as it is, but I doubt your kind is much interested in such things, my lord. And I doubt our dances and songs are much to your liking either", he said and shook his head.

Thranduil nodded. "It is as you say, Prince. Our people have very different ways".

But then Thorin's face was lit up with a small smile. "Since you are not otherwise preoccupied, would you like to come with me? I am going to the treasury to deliver these documents to the accountants there", he offered.

"To the treasury?" wondered Thranduil.

"Yes. I assume Erebor's gold will make for a far more interesting sight than these dimly illuminated corridors, even for an elf. It shall ease your boredom, if nothing else", the Prince stated with a mischievous grin.

 _Even the best of dwarves are fond and proud of their wealth above all other things,_ thought the Elvenking. "To the treasury then", he consented nonchalantly, having nothing better to do at the moment.

The dwarf led him over broad bridges and down several staircases, and their crossing seemed interminable to Thranduil, until they reached said treasury. Nothing could have ever prepared the elf for the sight he saw, for it was the first time in his life he set eyes upon the hoarded treasure of Erebor, and he stared at it wide-eyed, feeling the seeds of jealousy and greed stir from their dormancy and come to life in his heart.

For when Thorin pushed open a heavy door, a vast sea of gold and gems appeared behind it. The whole chamber was filled with the treasure, and it was a chamber deep and thrice as large as the Great Chamber of Thror. Narrow paths of stone crossed through the gold, and a few dwarves walked slowly and carefully on them, holding quill and paper in hand and taking notes every now and then.

"Behold the Great Hall of Thrain", announced the Prince. "Its use had once been as the throne room of Thrain I, but was later turned into treasury… and after that became the lair of Smaug", he narrated with a sigh. He then gestured around and shrugged, oblivious to Thranduil's astonishment as of yet. "We did our best to contain the gold… At first we thought of placing it all in chests, but the task seemed unfeasible", he narrated as he walked inside. "It is said that the accountants started counting every single coin and item of the treasure ever since Erebor had been reclaimed from the dragon, and that they are still counting. I know not whether or not this is true, but I personally consider it an exaggeration", he said and shrugged again.

"No, Prince… It is not an exaggeration", whispered Thranduil in an awed voice, and Thorin turned to look at him. The amazement he saw in the elf's eyes pleased him deeply, but he was courteous enough not to say anything rude about it.

"A nice sight to behold, is it not? Makes a dwarf's heart sing. But come now, Elvenking. Down these stairs we go and to the accountants' tables", said Dain's son and walked forth.

Thranduil followed, still unable to tear his eyes from the unimaginable wealth in front of him. A couple of shovelfuls from this gold would be enough to rebuild a city like Dale from the start. And to think that Erebor was getting richer and richer! These dwarves here earned a lot more than they spent, and theirs was undeniably the wealthiest kingdom that had ever been in Middle Earth, its riches surpassing even the hoarded treasures of the ancient elf lords of the First Age.

Thorin approached the accountants and conversed with them for a while, handing them the papers he had brought. Thranduil stood aside, uninterested in their particular dealings. Amongst his other thoughts he wondered where Lothrin's necklace and the accompanying white gems might be in this golden sea, and a sadness nestled in his heart, for the greed of the dwarves had not allowed him even the smallest courtesy. They had declined to return to him what was rightfully his, the gems of his late wife, and they had done so out of vengefulness and spite towards him.

In the course of time Thranduil had come to nearly abandon all hope of ever holding Lothrin's necklace in his hands again. He had come to accept that it would remain only in memory, just like Lothrin herself, with nothing tangible left of her life and presence on this earth.

But now that he was standing amidst this fabled treasure, and knowing that her gems were somewhere inside those hills of gold, and within his reach, an anger and a desperate longing awoke in his heart.

With these emotions drawn all over his features, he turned to Thorin as soon as the Prince was done with his task. "The white gems…" he whispered in a deep voice and with stormy eyes. "Where are they?"

The Prince gave him a rather confused look. "What white gems?"

At the dwarf's ignorance the Elvenking's flame of anger died down a bit, as he realized that his plight was not the fault of this young dwarf, for it was quite likely he knew nothing of the necklace and its story.

Thorin searched the elf's eyes with curiosity, for the myriads of emotions he suddenly saw in them surprised him. He had been used to the impassivity and unfailing composure of the Elvenking, and this unexpected change in his demeanor puzzled him. But then he came to think that these gems he was asking about were probably of great importance to him, and he decided to inquire further.

"Tell me, my lord Elvenking, what are these gems you speak of? Tell me, so that I may help you", he offered kindly.

Thranduil sighed, trying to regain his calm. "They are the white gems of Lasgalen. There is a necklace… white gems strung upon silver. It is stored in a wooden and ironbound chest, together with the rest of the gems", he described it from memory.

The dwarf remained thoughtful for a moment, scratching his beard, but then his expression changed and his eyes were suddenly lit. "I think I know what you speak of", he said. "Follow me, if you will".

He made for the southern wall, and Thranduil followed in his steps with impatience. Producing an iron key from a ring of many, Thorin unlocked a safe. "It is a fortunate thing I am in charge of economy and finance, so I know where most valuable things are stored", he said, and took out a chest. "Is this the one you spoke of?"

Before the Elvenking's eyes was the very chest he remembered. "Yes…"

Thorin nodded, and proceeded to open it. "Here it is then…" he said as he lifted the lid and glanced inside.

As the elf had said, there was a marvelous silver necklace made after the elven fashion and beset with white gems. Numerous more gems filled the chest.

Thranduil's gaze flickered and his voice faltered. "It is… as I remember it", he whispered almost brokenly, striving with all his might to maintain his composure before the dwarf, but tears were already brimming in the corners of his eyes.

Lifting a shivering hand, he reluctantly made to touch the jewels, as if afraid it would be denied to him once again. But it was not, and he felt the cold and hard surface of the gems beneath his fingertips; he traced their sharply cut lines and laid eyes upon their mesmerizing gleam for the first time after hundreds of years. A cataclysmic thrill coursed through him and upset his senses, bringing forth memories of the past, as he stared at the gems and the necklace wide-eyed and open-mouthed, holding his breath. "Lothrin…" he uttered, and he felt as if a small part of his dead wife had come alive again, and it called to him with love and despair.

But then a sudden wave of devastation washed over him, and he abruptly withdrew his hand from the chest. He turned his back to the Prince, lowering his face, eyes pressed shut beneath eyebrows furrowed with tension, and balling his hands into fists. The dwarf was not allowed to see his pain and dejection. The dwarf was not allowed to see how vulnerable and despondent the fearsome Elvenking truly was.

But Thorin had seen his reaction when he laid eyes on the gems, and he had observed the twitch of the strict brow, the quivering long fingers as they tenderly caressed the necklace, and the torrent of emotions in the depths of those seemingly cold eyes. And his gentle heart was moved.

"What are these jewels to you?" he asked, and the dull thump of the chest closing was then heard. Thorin placed it on the rock beside him and took a step closer to the ellon.

"They were withheld from me", Thranduil replied in a voice lined with heartache and anger. "But they once belonged to my late wife", he added in a faded tone, still keeping his back turned to the dwarf.

"If they are yours, why are they here in Erebor and not in your own treasury? And why have they been withheld from you, as you say?" the Prince inquired with mild suspicion, not fully aware of the story behind those gems.

Taking a deep breath and trying to gather his wits about him, the Elvenking turned to Thorin. The dwarf was surprised to see there were still tears glimmering in the elf's eyes, and his face resumed a solemn expression.

"Do you not know why?" Thranduil asked in exasperation.

"The particulars elude me, I fear", Thorin admitted.

The Elvenking sighed again and took a couple of slow steps, clasping his hands behind his back and lowering his face slightly. "These gems were an heirloom of my House. They were worn by my mother, and by my wife after her. But the necklace was broken and destroyed, and I sent the gems to Thror with the request for it to be remade", he explained, omitting what he considered to be unnecessary details.

"But this necklace is a fine work of art. Why, and how could it have ever been destroyed?" Thorin curiously wondered.

Thranduil gave him a brief but pained glance. He hated it when he had to recount the events of Lothrin's demise, for his grief was deep and eternal.

"My wife had decided she wanted the necklace set into her armor before we marched against the hordes of Gundabad. But in that horrid battle she was killed, charred into nothingness by a great serpent of the North. Thus was her armor and therefore the necklace destroyed", explained the Elvenking in a mournful voice.

"My heart goes out for the tragedy of your past, Elvenking, notwithstanding that I am a dwarf and you are an elf. No such fate should ever befall anyone", spoke Thorin quietly. Thranduil nodded. "But why were the gems withheld from you?" he asked on.

The Elvenking's gaze idly fell to the closed chest. "Years after that fateful battle I had the gems sent to Thror, as I told you, for the dwarven craftsmanship was unmatched, and I wanted the necklace fully repaired, as if it had never been damaged. Thror and I had agreed on a payment, but the restoration work took longer than it had initially been estimated. Consequentially, Thror asked for a higher payment, but it was a price so unreasonable that almost exceeded the value of the gems and necklace themselves. You see, the immense love and greed for gold – the dragon-sickness – had already began nestling in the old King's heart. I declined, insisting on paying him what we had first agreed upon. He in turn refused as well. The jewels were never returned to me; they have been kept in Erebor ever since", he narrated.

"I see… So the fault lies with both sides, and yet with neither at the same time", Thorin commented appositely.

"You could say so", agreed Thranduil. "Each side may devise their own version of the events, but as the years go by the stories deviate from the truth further and further, beset with exaggerations and lies. You may hear numerous variations of the story of the white gems here in Erebor, should you ask about them, but the naked truth is as I told it to you", he clarified.

But then his countenance lost its previous severity, and became more sorrowful. "I had hoped, for a time, that the gems might be returned to me after Smaug's defeat and the reclamation of Erebor, but it never came to be".

"But why? Surely my father would not care much to part with such an insignificant piece of the treasure", the Prince assumed. "You could reach an agreement".

Thranduil shook his silver head and a small, bitter smile curled his lips. "It is very unlikely. In fact, after the victory here sixty-one years ago, a council of the victors was held in Dale a few days after the battle, and we discussed the treasure and our shares. Bard the bowman took what Thorin Oakenshield had promised him, and with that gold he started rebuilding Dale. I, too, took a small portion of the gold, for my army was the most numerous, and without my aid Dain would have never been able to defeat the orcs. Our losses, too, had been severe, and it would have been arduous for our realm to recover. So, Dain agreed to part with a small amount of gold, although very grudgingly so. But when I mentioned the white gems of Lasgalen, Dain simply said that this necklace would stay where it lay, and he would hear no more about it".

"I knew of that meeting and the division of the treasure, but not of the fate of the gems", commented the Prince thoughtfully, who had come to live in Erebor from the Iron Hills a few months after its retaking.

"Your father would rather give out gold than return to me what is rightfully mine. My hopes of recovering the necklace were in the course of time extinguished, as Dain's well of good will ran drier and drier. But I should have expected that, because he holds a personal enmity towards me, and I would be a liar if I said I do not dislike him with equal fervor", Thranduil responded, and Thorin's bushy brow furrowed at these words. "Forgive me for speaking so, Prince Thorin, but it is the harsh truth and nothing else".

"Yes, I understand that. But it is not only my father that detests you. My kin here bear a terrible grudge against you for abandoning them to their fate when the dragon first came and destroyed Erebor", the Prince voiced his thought. "It is understandable, under that light, why my father will not return the gems to you".

"Yes, it may be as you say... And I do not expect any dwarf to ever understand my decision, but I did what was necessary to protect my own people", Thranduil stated.

Thorin shrugged. "I am not here to pass judgement or presume to fully comprehend the ways of the elves. But if there is one thing I know, then this is that we free peoples must set our differences and grievances aside and unite against the evil in Mordor", he spoke with resolve.

Now distracted from his previous thoughts, Thranduil raised an eyebrow in question. "So you realize the necessity of my cause, Prince Thorin?"

"I am not allowed to say much, but I will say to you that I do not disagree with your plans, my lord Elvenking", he confessed in a guarded tone and his eyes dashed around for others that might be listening.

"How about Dwalin, your uncle? He, too, voiced his opposition during that last meeting", Thranduil pressed on.

"Yes… He prefers fighting and wielding his axe against orcs than drumming his hammer here in the armories of Erebor", answered the Prince.

"Prince Thorin, it has been more than a week since your father decided to shut himself from the outer world. You and Dwalin must have definitely spoken to him many times. Did you perchance manage to change his mind?" Thranduil inquired, looking at the young dwarf intently.

Thorin sighed in discomfort. "I have already spoken more than I ought to, my lord. You must not ask any more questions considering my father's state of mind. Please".

But Thranduil chose to almost ignore his plea, for when he wanted something, he could become very persistent, nigh importunate. "This at least you must be able to answer. We have heard no word considering his thoughts about the resumption of the negotiations. Have you reached an agreement, maybe? Is Dain persuaded to meet me again in council?" he asked impatiently.

The dwarven Prince huffed, crossing his arms before his chest, and slightly turned from Thranduil. "You seek to take advantage of my good will, my lord King. I told you I can say no more".

"Contrary to your father, you, Prince Thorin, are able of showing good will, as well as kindness and courtesy. You lack the obstinacy of Dain, thankfully. But you must realize the importance of this cause, and that it is imperative that I know whether or not your King is willing to negotiate further. For here I tarry in your halls, a guest and at the same time a prisoner of Dain's will, waiting for his mood to change. But my patience for this game runs thin, and I am willing to play it no longer. For we exchange idle words here whilst the enemy keeps growing, and I have more realms to visit and rally to my cause. We do not have the luxury of time, I fear, young Prince. I must be soon marching southwards. So tell me, will your King order for the negotiations to be resumed soon enough or not?"

During his speech Thorin saw Thranduil for who he truly was: an elf lord wise and ancient, skilled with both sword and words, who would not stand for any foolishness or prevarication. He was a King, an effective ruler, whose first and foremost priority was the welfare of his kingdom, and who was entirely unwilling to needlessly stall the furthering of his purposes.

Thorin now turned to fully face Thranduil and looked him in the eye. "The negotiations cannot continue until we dwarves come to an agreement. My uncle and myself are willing to join you, my lord Elvenking, but my father is not. It is true that we have talked to him, and still are, but we have come to a standstill, I fear", he revealed with a sigh. "And I also fear that, should we continue to press him further, my father's violent temper will go flaring, and his anger will erupt. In that case, I would rather not be around when it happens", he ended with a deep frown.

Disappointment was drawn all over the Elvenking's sharp features. "So you are telling me Dain is very unlikely to relent".

"Indeed", came the dwarf's one-worded confirmation. "And I cannot go against my father's will in that matter, lest I risk a rebellion, and that I will not do".

"I understand your reservations, and I do not blame you; in fact, I admire your loyalty and obedience to your King. Nonetheless, it is a pity and a shame, Prince, for a race so brave as yours. Erebor would make a fine ally on the battlefield. Our people had once drawn swords together; I do not see why we cannot do that again. I deeply regret your father's stance, and I say to you, I would have very much preferred to negotiate with you, Thorin. But you represent the future of this kingdom, and I shall give hope to that", Thranduil said in sorrowful tones.

With that he lifted his head, resuming his regal stance, and made to turn and leave.

"My lord", Thorin called at him.

The Elvenking glanced at him from over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"What about the white gems?"

He now turned to face the dwarf. "What of them?" he asked in feigned indifference.

Thorin hesitated for a moment, fidgeting with the fine hairs of his beard and shifting his weight onto the other leg. Thranduil kept looking at him impassively, efficiently hiding his inner anxiety.

"Perhaps, seeing that my father will most likely refuse to help you, I may be able to give you something in return… a small token of respect and appreciation", he finally uttered, and brought his hand to rest atop the chest.

Thranduil's lips parted in both amazement and disbelief, and his gaze wandered from the dwarf's eyes to the chest and back. "You would not do that, Prince".

"Why not? I am Prince indeed. Can I not give away a gift?" he defended his suggestion.

"It would be a noble deed to do… An entirely foolish one, nevertheless", replied the Elvenking in a benign tone, a tone he used often when he spoke to Legolas.

"But why?" asked Thorin, beginning to feel disheartened.

"Dain would be furious if he found out. You see, this necklace is a symbol for him, as it has been for Thror; it represents the power a dwarven King might hold over his elven counterpart – me, in this case – and the satisfaction he draws from possessing a valued item of his rival, as well as the conviction that dwarves have bested the elves. If Dain suddenly lost this advantageous hold, he would be frantic. And then, led by his wounded pride and ego, he would be most likely to rain his wrath down upon me and my people, which I would never risk", Thranduil replied, laying out his thoughts for Thorin to see, and the young dwarf marveled at the elf's reasoning.

"But only if he found out. I would make sure he did not", said the Prince in a childlike manner.

A tiny, sympathetic smile crept upon the Elvenking's lips. "He would, eventually. Never doubt that. Do you think anything escapes your father's eye of a falcon, Prince? He would find out, and he would be enraged. Not only would he seek to take back the necklace – or at least fight his rage out – but also his punishment for you would probably be severe", he warned the other.

"What can he do, disown me? It is not like he has another son and heir", Thorin countered. "We would most likely shout at each other at the top of our lungs and for all of Middle Earth to hear!"

"Your rash and thoughtless act would open a rift between you and your father, and it would jeopardize the unity and stability of your realm. Erebor cannot afford something like that in the face of the coming war against the Shadow. No realm can afford to be divided, for that matter", Thranduil spoke wisely, and Thorin sighed, forced to abandon his careless ideas.

The elf then took a few steps closer to the dwarf. "Listen to me, young Prince. You are to become King one day, and you must think of the welfare of your kingdom above all. Kings cannot afford to make decisions based on feelings, but only reason", he advised him, and Thorin was listening to him with a receptive ear and a meek expression, gazing deeply into his eyes. For it was only in their depths that the wisdom and age of this elf could be truly seen, no matter how deceitful his youthful looks were.

"No gems or treasures are worth an estrangement between a father and his son", he added solemnly, remembering at that moment the long years he himself spent distanced from Legolas.

"But the gems belong to you… They were your wife's…" murmured the Prince.

"Yes, they were. But I have been parted from them, from _her_ , for centuries, and I am now used to that reality. Nothing can bring Lothrin back. The necklace is a cherished heirloom, but my memories of my wife I cherish more. It took me long to realize that, Prince. So keep the gems in your vault. Keep them secret, keep them safe, free of greedy hands, so that they will remain pure and untainted, as she was. And, who knows, there may come a day in the future when they will be returned to me at last".

With that Thranduil gave one last kind look to the noble Prince, and he departed from the Great Hall of Thrain.

Thorin stood lost in thought for a long while. What he had just experienced of the Elvenking had little to do with the rumors and stories he had heard about him. They spoke of a cold, greedy and cruel King, but he had witnessed the opposite. Thranduil was willing to let go of his claim on the white gems for the time being, so as to ensure Erebor's stability, whereas he could have simply accepted the Prince's generous – but ill-thought – offer, and walked away, uncaring and indifferent as to what might happen in the future. He had spoken to Thorin in a fatherly manner, and had given him valuable advice about the principles of ruling and governance.

How could his father be so blind and stubborn? Suddenly, Dain's stance towards the Elvenking seemed awfully wrong to the Prince. Thorin was certain now that, had any other King proposed the same plans to his father, it would not take long for him to accede. But it vexed him that this proposition had to come from the Elvenking, whom he despised to no end, and for that reason alone he was now being as obstinate as a mule and refused to cede. But his anger was like a thick veil draped before his eyes, and prevented him from seeing the greater good.

Thorin had to make sure this veil was torn.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The King Under the Mountain was reading a tediously long report about the collection of taxes, when he was – admittedly to his relief – interrupted by the entrance of his servant, Bragi.

"My King, Captain Tauriel of the elven host is waiting outside your chambers. She has requested an audience. What shall I tell her?"

Dain Ironfoot lifted his eyes from the parchment and looked at his servant with curiosity. What did this elleth want with him?

"Have I not already said countless times by now I will not speak to any elf, Bragi? Why do you pester me now with such inquiries?" he retorted irritably, and grunted.

Bragi recoiled. "Forgive me, my lord. I told her that, but she persisted. She said she seeks to appeal to your good will and to your promise of treating her as an honored guest", he replied sheepishly, fearing now the rage of his King.

But said King just sank back in his chair and huffed. For he had indeed called her a friend of his people, and he had vowed that she would be shown the utmost respect. It would be dishonorable to go back on his word now and deny her the audience.

"Fine, fine… show her in", he acceded.

Bragi bowed to his King and left.

In a few moments Tauriel was entering the dwarven lord's chambers. She took a few careful steps towards him, clearly reserved in her manner, and then she stopped and gracefully bowed before him. Dain motioned for her to stand upright.

"Good day, my lord Dain", she began cordially.

"I am not so sure it is…" he murmured grumpily, scratching his beard and trying to guess the disposition of the Captain. But then his countenance changed, as he remembered he had to be civil. "No matter. They told me you have requested an audience, lady Tauriel", he said in as much a polite way as he could manage.

Tauriel nodded. "Indeed I have, my lord. And I thank you deeply for agreeing to receive me", she replied in a mellow voice.

The dwarf gave her a thorough look-over. She was dressed in a cypress green tunic and trousers and a brown leather overcoat that reached to her calves. Matching knee-high boots, a close-fitting vest and a fine scarf, which had a bronze sheen, completed her attire. Her reddish hair cascaded far beyond her shoulders in neat waves, and was adorned with a few intricate braids, leaving her pointed ears uncovered and prominent. Dain could not help but wonder what Kili might have seen in that fey creature that had made him desire her so.

"Take a seat, Captain. May I offer you a drink? Some wine, perhaps?" he offered courtly, and stood from his chair. "I hear you wood elves have a fondness for wine, like your King. Try some dwarven wine now", he added as he reached for two goblets, filled them with wine and handed one of them to Tauriel.

She nodded her gratitude with a smile and took a sip, feeling pleasantly surprised with the slightly tangy but rich and deep-down sweet taste of the liquor. "It is excellent, my lord", she commented and took another sip.

Dain smiled self-contentedly and shook his head. "Aye, it is a favorite of mine. But now that we are supplied with something to not let our throats go dry, go on and tell me the purpose of your coming", he prompted her, his suspicious eyes now bearing hard into hers.

But the Captain was not intimidated. Maintaining her composure and pleasant appearance, she spoke. "I am here to express my sadness, my lord. For although my kin and I have been graciously received in your halls and very well provided for, it has been days since we last heard anything from you. Why will you still deny to meet with us and our King, so that the negotiations may continue?" she presented her issue, choosing to avoid unnecessary prologues.

Dain frowned and averted his eyes, swirling the content of his goblet in his hand. It was not like he had not expected that to be the subject she would bring forth. But instead of giving her a direct response, he answered thus:

"Has your King sent you hear to ask these questions?"

The dwarf's tone was curt and aggressive, and Tauriel was slightly taken aback. "No, my lord. I assure you my lord Thranduil knows nothing of my presence here. This is an initiative of mine, and no other's".

He watched her with scrutiny. "Hmm. Let us assume I believe you. Why should I speak my mind to you?" Dain went on in the same obstinate manner, causing the elleth to feel a measure of nervousness now, for she was not really tried in negotiating procedures, and she feared that her lack of experience would soon show.

"Because what prompted me to visit you here in your chambers is my care and concern for the welfare of all our people, elf and dwarf alike. And my King's cause is in the best interest of all of us. Lingering here is in the favor of the enemy's plans only, my lord", she replied. "King Dain, believe me when I say that I would never agree to join this party, this cause, were I not fully convinced of its absolute necessity", she stated boldly.

Dain raised an eyebrow in amusement. "What say would you have in the matter? You are a subject of the Elvenking. You would do as he commanded".

"His subject I am, but I would not blindly obey any command. I would not hesitate to set myself apart if I considered his cause unjust", Tauriel claimed in the same brazen manner.

Dain shifted in his seat and looked at Tauriel more closely, his interest now picked by the words of that peculiar elleth, who had made herself a friend of the dwarves and had earned their respect. "You would dare cross your King?" he challenged her claim.

The Captain took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of her heart. "I have done so once in the past, as you may already know. And I have done so in my attempt to save your kin, my lord Dain. For it did not matter to me that they were dwarves, only that they were certain to die, were they to be left helpless upon Ravenhill. My conscience protested; I could not let that happen", she recounted in an emotional voice.

"Yes, I have heard of the defiance. Who has not, really? That was brave of you to do, and that is why my people here like you", the dwarven King commented and shook his head. "But I have also heard of your consequent pardon, which is why you are here now, a member of the Elvenking's counselors. Apparently, your King is either a blithering fool to take back a traitor, or he holds you in such great esteem and value that he is willing to forgive your audacity and trespasses. The first I doubt. He may be treacherous and heartless, but a fool he is not. As for the second, it puzzles me greatly, I admit. Why did that spiteful woodland sprite welcome you back in his kingdom? It makes no sense. Were you a subject of mine, lass, you would not have been that lucky, I assure you", he said and gulped from his wine, giving Tauriel a sharp side-glance afterwards.

"Because he is not spiteful, my lord", Tauriel answered in a soft tone. "He is wise, and although he is strict and unyielding, he is compassionate. Thranduil forgave me because I had acted out of love, and he could never begrudge me that", she explained, and tears rose up in her eyes, as her thoughts turned to her lover and the impossible magnanimity he had shown her.

"Did he himself tell you that?" Dain asked in disbelief.

"Those had been his exact words, my lord", Tauriel confirmed.

The dwarven King stood from his chair and paced around for a while, seemingly deep in thought. At last he turned to Tauriel and said, "He might be compassionate and forgiving with his own kin, as you say, and I have no reason to doubt, but he is the exact opposite with us dwarves. Where was his compassion when Smaug descended on Erebor? Where was his benevolence when my kin were violently killed and forced out of their homes and into exile? I will tell you where: nowhere!" Dain bellowed in righteous anger, causing Tauriel to lower her gaze and sigh. "He turned his back to my people when they needed his aid the most. He hates our kind with a passion. He would rather see all of the dwarves die than lift a finger to help them!"

"No, my lord", the Captain said in a quiet tone, keeping her calm, contrary to the dwarf's fuming anger. "He would rather see only the dwarves die, and not his own people as well. For what chance stood the elves against an enraged dragon? Smaug would have desolated our home as well, not only yours. His flames would have laid waste to our forest, erasing it from existence. Tell me, my lord, what King in his right mind would ever risk that? Thranduil chose to be seen as cruel and heartless by the dwarves, thinking that this sacrifice was worth it, because it meant his people would still be alive", the Captain stated, fervently defending her King's past actions.

"I see now you have become of one mind with him!" Dain exclaimed.

"We have both admitted the error of our ways, and were able to see beyond that. He has understood my motives, and I have realized his reasons", she explained. "Cannot now elves and dwarves do the same? How much longer must this reckless animosity last? How many more lives have to be lost before our peoples are reconciled? Need we to see Sauron's banners planted here on our doorsteps, so that we might join in battle and draw swords together?" she asked her questions with an ardency and a light of hope in her eyes.

Dain regarded her for a long moment, his arms crossed before his chest. The elleth's fiery spirit had impressed him, and he would be a liar to deny that her words had somewhat touched him. "My son and you have formed a secret party, it seems, and are conspiring behind my back", he murmured. "And you have even persuaded noble Dwalin to join you".

Tauriel smiled, recognizing the latent jest in the King's words, although they bore a significant meaning. "My lord, we have formed no such party. We only speak the voice of reason. We desire to-" she began, but was interrupted by a knock on the door and the consequent entrance of the King's servant.

"Forgive the interruption, my lord. Your son the Prince is here to see you", announced Bragi.

Any chance Dain had in replying was stolen away by Thorin, who at that moment marched inside purposefully.

"Father, I must speak with you", he demanded with urgency.

The King stood frowning and with his hands resting on his hips. "Thorin! What is the meaning of this?"

Tauriel's eyes traveled from father to son, as she was rather surprised by this sudden intrusion. She had a feeling, however, that Thorin had appeared in the most opportune moment, and that her chances of convincing Dain to see the truth and change his ways would now be greater.

Thorin glanced over to the seated elleth, and his hastiness was momentarily halted, as he was overcome with wonderment. "Oh, I knew not you had company".

"Of course you did not, you fool, because you did not even bother to ask before barging in!" Dain shouted, reprimanding his son.

But Thorin was not thwarted, and resumed his previous stance. "All the same, I need to speak to you".

The King Under the Mountain grunted in vexation. "Leave us", he ordered his servant and Bragi hurriedly left. Then he turned to his son again. "Are you here to fill my head with praise for the Elvenking too?" he barked in annoyance, and returned to his chair in a huff.

Thorin and Tauriel exchanged a cognizing glance, and the Captain gave a tiny smile to the Prince, acknowledging that they both were on the same side… and opposite Dain, as it were.

"Actually… yes", came Thorin's belated reply. "I wanted to talk to you of his proposition, and why we should join him".

Dain's head dropped to his hand in exasperation, and he massaged his temple, attempting to ease the tension and irritation, which were rapidly transforming into a headache.

"I suppose you all will not leave me alone until I have consented to join that elf's campaign", he murmured wearily.

Thorin looked at him in surprise. "Are you considering it? Because the last time we talked, you were adamant in your decision not to aid the Elvenking in his cause".

"And I still am! But you, Dwalin, some of the councilors – you all parade here in my chambers one after the other and demand that I do so. Now this elf has come as well and spoken her piece. It seems everyone is in favor of this venture but me!" he cried in frustration.

"It is so, father. Most of our people wish to fight the Shadow, and are willing to make the small sacrifice that it is to fight beside elves, if the future of our home is at stake. They are ashamed to cower here, while the elves march southwards to fight for the sake of all of us. Dol Guldur might be located in Mirkwood, but the enemy inside is not an enemy of Mirkwood alone. It is an enemy of us all. Listen to your people, father, I beseech you!" Thorin pleaded.

"Why are you so willing to fight beside those pointy-eared creatures, son? Have they ensnared you with their magics?" asked Dain indignantly, ignoring the Prince's plea and reasonable arguments.

"No, father. There was no magic involved in my persuasion, I assure you. But I spoke with the Elvenking the other day, and the justice of his cause was made clear to me", Thorin stated.

"You consulted with the Elvenking in secret?" Dain bellowed, jumping from his seat.

"It was nothing scheduled, just a chance meeting", the younger dwarf explained. "King Thranduil is not the monster the stories describe him as. He is a good King, a just ruler, who cares deeply for his people, and for this world".

"Pah! He cares for none but himself!" Dain spat. "He has been sitting idly in his halls for too long, and now suddenly he wishes to go to war? Last time he left his halls to wage war was when he wanted to lay a hand on our treasure! Tell me, son, does this not look suspicious to you?"

Thorin hesitated for a moment, slightly shaken by his father's words. But Tauriel grasped the opportunity and chimed in. "My lord Dain", she started, attracting his attention. "It is true that my King has been uninvolved in the fates of this world for quite a long time, choosing to rule his kingdom with little consideration for what was going on outside its borders. But things have changed lately, and I have witnessed that change. It is a sincere change, my lord. My King has been reminded of his love for this world… for reasons that are not mine to disclose", she said thoughtfully, her mind turning to the love she shared with Thranduil. "I can only confirm the authenticity of this change".

"I would sooner believe there is some long-lost heirloom buried in the ruins of that fortress that he wishes to retrieve than go to war over a noble cause", Dain grunted and frowned.

The Captain's face resumed a sorrowful expression as she heard the dwarven King's words. He was stubborn beyond description, and her hopes of changing his mind now diminished.

But Thorin took a step forward, looking now determined. "No father. You are wrong. It is not so. The Elvenking does not value jewels and treasure above his people and their welfare. And I know that with a certainty, because I offered him the white gems of Lasgalen, and he refused", he stated boldly.

Dain's face turned red with rising ire and he sprang up from his seat at once, knocking his goblet to the floor. "You did what?" he shouted.

"It is as I said. He refused to accept the gems of his late wife, the story of which you failed to tell me", Thorin went on in the same manner, ignoring the King's incensed outburst. "And would you like to know why he refused? He refused because he did not wish for a rift of hatred to be created between us, father!"

"You insolent child! You senseless dwarfling! You deserve a banishment of fifty years for your stupidity!" Dain Ironfoot screamed in a thunderous voice filled with wrath.

"Do what you will, as long as you listen to me first!" the Prince cried.

Tauriel felt now uncomfortable for having to witness the dwarves' heated quarrel, but she was also surprised by what Thorin had just said. He had offered the white gems to Thranduil and he had not accepted them!

"My lords", she intervened. "Please, calm your tempers. Shouting will not resolve the issue at hand", she advised them, and they both turned to look at her. Dain glared at her angrily, and Thorin sighed and lowered his gaze.

"It is a miracle the Elvenking declined your thoughtless offering of the gems, and thus saved you from a worse fate!" the King turned angrily to his son and pointed a threatening finger at him. "But we will deal with this later. I do not like making my family matters a show for the elves", he grunted and gave a side-glance to Tauriel.

"Father, please calm your anger", the Prince now tried speaking in a softer tone. "I only ask of you to see reason. Will you allow your personal dislike for the Elvenking prevail? You are better than that! And I know that in your heart you realize his cause is just. Had any other lord come to you with this proposition, you would not be denying your aid as you are doing now", he voiced his opinion.

"My lord, your son speaks right. There are things in this world that by far exceed our personal ambitions and enmities. My King realizes that, and I am sure you do as well", Tauriel now spoke, adding to the gravity of Thorin's arguments.

"You need not change your heart about the Elvenking. You only need to give your assent so that we may join him in his southward march. And you need not even fight beside him; I can do that in your stead", the young dwarf proffered in earnest.

Dain's cunning eyes danced from his son to the elleth and back. _These two here will soon drive me crazy if I don't give them an answer,_ he thought. _But they expect an answer in their favor; they want me to relent. But how can I do that? How can I draw swords together with the Elvenking of my own volition?_ He shifted in his chair and sighed. Tauriel and Thorin were looking at him with anxiety and anticipation.

"So, what say you, father? What will it be?" Thorin required impatiently.

At last the King Under the Mountain rose from his seat, and cleared his voice before speaking. "I have heard you both long and patiently, but my patience is now ended. Leave now, and you shall hear my decision tomorrow, for we shall meet one last time in council".

* * *

Much later in the day, Thranduil and Tauriel were relaxing together in the first one's apartments, lying languidly in the sofa in a loose embrace. The fireplace in front of them was lit, for, although it was the beginning of spring, the days were cold, still clinging to the winter's chill. The soft glow and heat emanating from the dancing flames made the room feel cozier and more welcoming to the elves.

"So Dain is finally to resume the negotiations tomorrow", the Elvenking said at one point during their idle conversation. "And I had begun to lose hope this would ever come to be".

"But it is a good thing that it will happen, so that we may know whether the dwarves are to join us or not", Tauriel commented.

"Indeed, for we have lingered for far too long in this inhospitable mountain", he agreed. "I suspect Thorin managed to persuade him at long last".

Tauriel turned a bit so as to look at him in the eye. "It might not only have been Thorin's work", she murmured cryptically.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

The Captain smiled coyly. "I might have had something to do with that as well".

He sat up, pulling her along. "What is it exactly that you did, Tauriel?" he asked with apprehension in his tone, holding her by the shoulders.

But she did not share in his worry, and chuckled. "I did what you brought me along to do, my lord. King Dain might have refused to speak to any elf, but he did not refuse to speak to me", she explained.

A look of surprise came over Thranduil's features. "Did you manage to convince him to aid us?" he asked wit impatience.

"Of that I am not sure. We shall know tomorrow, as it is. But I am confident that I made him see our point, and clarified our purpose. Perhaps he now looks less suspiciously upon it", Tauriel answered. "But I also received some unexpected help from Thorin. He walked in on me speaking with Dain, and he contributed his own arguments in the favor of our cause as well", she added.

"Ah, at least the Prince agrees with our cause. I had a chance to speak with him yesterday. He is clever and kind, for a dwarf", Thranduil said with a small smile.

"Yes, he is. And he also said that he offered you the gems of Lasgalen, which you refused to accept", Tauriel interjected the comment, wishing to learn more about the reason why Thranduil chose not take back his wife's necklace.

He shot a surprised glance at her. "He spoke of that to his father, and in front of you?" he asked wide-eyed.

Tauriel nodded. "He did. He tried to use your refusal as an argument to defend the integrity of your character and to show that you care more about the fate of the world than jewels… But it was not so well received by Dain, I am afraid, for he threatened Thorin with banishment and other punishments", she narrated. "I know not what you said to him yesterday, but clearly you won his sympathy".

Thranduil slowly leaned back, resting his head on the armrest of the sofa. "We spoke of many things… But mainly about the expedition against Dol Guldur. He is a sensible and noble dwarf, and he understands my reasons. Had it been up to him, we would have already signed the papers of the allegiance. However, he fears to cross his father openly, and he will have to submit to Dain's final decision. Seeing that this would not probably be in our favor, he sought to return the gems to me, as a gift of trust and good will", he said in a low voice.

Tauriel watched his face closely. "Why did you refuse them, Thranduil? Thorin mentioned something like a rift of hatred…"

The Elvenking nodded with closed eyes. "Yes... Had I accepted the dwarf's ill-thought offer, Dain would be irredeemably furious. He would punish his son severely, creating a rift of hatred between them, and thus threatening the stability of his kingdom in a time when every realm must stand firm and united. Not to mention that he would probably have a mind of marching against us as well in order to take back the gems. I explained all this to the Prince, and he understood. We came to a mutual understanding, in the end. Which is why he defended our cause so boldly today, together with you, I presume".

Tauriel came to lie close to her lover again. "You have acted wisely, mell nin", she whispered and kissed his cheek.

"So have you, although you chose not to consult with me before visiting Dain", Thranduil responded and turned his face to look at her.

"You would have probably tried to dissuade me, and I could not risk that", she told him with a small smile and made to kiss him again.

But Thranduil was faster, and captured her lips first. His kiss was deep and gratifying, and after that he regarded her with pride in his gaze. "You have acted like a Queen".

Tauriel softly gasped, for this thought had not crossed her mind. "I only did what I considered might prove helpful to our cause", she uttered.

"As I said, you acted like a Queen", he repeated, and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "For that is what a true Queen must do: act in favor of the greater good and give little thought to her personal ambition. I hold no doubt now that you will make an excellent Queen by my side, meleth nin", he spoke to her lovingly.

She was moved, and tears of joy welled up in her eyes. "And to think that I kind of expected you would reprimand me for my initiative…"

"No, Tauriel. For you are not that audacious and disobedient child you once were, as much as I am not the cold and detached King I once was. We have both changed; our love has transformed us into better people, into the better version of ourselves. And, you know, I do like this version. I think I shall keep it", he said with a playful smirk curling his lips in the end.

The Captain softly laughed, and then threw herself in the arms of her King. "I love you with all my heart, with every fiber of my being. Never forget that", she whispered to him, and proceeded to seal his lips with hers, indulging in another passionate kiss.

He held her tightly against him and kissed her with abandon, as if he wanted to show her with acts and not words that he loved her in equal measure, as she had proclaimed. It was before long that their desire for each other flared, and with hurried moves they got rid of their clothes, and began enjoying the feeling of their naked skin touching.

Tauriel brought her body upon his, as he was still lying on his back, and straddled his hips. With one gentle move he allowed himself to slide inside her core, and she rewarded him with a soft gasp and a tightening of her inner muscles around his shaft, causing him to moan in turn. Slowly she began her arousing dance in his lap, until he could take no more of that sweet torture and with one swift move flipped their positions, taking now control of the situation.

She had no mind to argue; on the contrary, she welcomed the change, and allowed her lover to drive them both towards the maximum of their pleasure, which he happily did, but in a slow pace, wishing not to rush, but savor every moment of union with his beloved. Soon the room was filled with their pants and gasps, until they could hold back no more and delivered themselves unto the sweetest ecstasy there was.

* * *

A dim sun peeked from beneath the grey clouds, allowing its beams to reach the ground and stir the life on earth from its slumber. At that hour the council of the King Under the Mountain was assembling after its recess of ten days.

Dain Ironfoot rose from his high seat and began with the initiatives. "Good morrow, everyone. We meet again in council, one final time, to discuss the plans of the Elvenking. I will ask of everyone, who might wish to speak, to be brief and inclusive in their speeches. And now let us begin".

Thranduil stood up. "Lord Dain, I need not present my cause to you again, for you are already very well aware of it. I only wish to add that the kingdom of Dale has already agreed to aid us", he declared, producing a rolled parchment that bore the sigil of King Bain, and showing it to Dain. "The allegiance of Imladris is also ensured, for I have already spoken with lord Elrond of the matter, and he immediately agreed with my cause. You all know of the wisdom of lord Elrond and his millennia-long contribution to the preservation of this Middle earth; this is an undisputed fact, acknowledged by all. Pay heed to that at least, if you are unwilling to pay heed to me and still view me with a measure of disbelief", he offered and looked around to the dwarves, who nodded and whispered to each other. "Moreover, Lothlorien is most likely to join us as well. Dol Guldur lies very close to lord Celeborn's lands, and he has long desired the cleansing of that fortress", he added. "You see, all the northern realms are allied and willing to march southwards. And I ask you now, lord Dain: what will Erebor do? What will the stance of your fabled kingdom be? Will you wisely accede to join us, or will you selfishly and stubbornly exclude yourselves from this alliance? We are awaiting your response".

With that Thranduil returned to his seat, but kept his pale eyes trained on his counterpart. A deep frown was upon Dain's brow, and he seemed to be in discomfort, as if caught in a narrow siege and with no escape route available. His eyes traveled from the Elvenking to his son, then to Dwalin, and lastly Tauriel. All of these people urged him to abandon his obdurate ways and join the elves. But still, he found it tremendously difficult to speak the words and shake hands with that arrogant elf.

Silence reigned, as everyone kept looking at Dain, who remained stubbornly silent, sulking in his chair. Several minutes passed like that, until Thranduil stood once more.

"Lord Dain, give us your answer", he asked of him in an imperative tone.

Huffing, the dwarven King finally rose from his seat and came to stand opposite the Elvenking. He hated himself right then, for the words he was about to utter equaled defeat and submission for him.

"Erebor will aid you. You have our allegiance", he grudgingly said, and his frown became deeper still.

Thranduil accepted this statement with a graceful bow. "You have our gratitude", he told Dain.

"You best say that to that son of mine, who hastened to forget where his loyalties lie and side with you", Dain spoke in an undignified manner, causing Thorin to look away in shame. It hurt him that his father wished to ridicule him in front of the council and the elves.

"Your son saw the truth and did not hesitate to acknowledge it", Thranduil said in the Prince's defense. "But I am glad that you as well have at last pledged your allegiance to us".

"Yes, well", responded Dain dismissively. "I shall deploy a regiment of our army in your aid, to march under my son's command. I find none more suitable than him for that role".

"And I shall gladly accept your decision, lord Dain, for I find Prince Thorin a fine specimen of the dwarven race, and it will be my pleasure to discuss battle tactics with him", Thranduil responded in earnest.

Dain rolled his eyes, for this kind of talk bothered him and bored him now. This was a decision he had been forced to make. Had he not been under so much pressure from everyone, he would have never agreed to commit his forces to the Elvenking's campaign. But he could not have risked the displeasure of his people and his council, so at last he yielded.

"Yes, I am sure you shall find things to talk about", he commented indifferently. "I suppose the documents are in order now. Send your counselors to consult with mine about the details later in the day, so that we may be done with that once and for all", he said grumpily and turned his back to Thranduil, walking away. "Of course, there will be a farewell dinner tonight, as is custom. Wear your finest", he spoke from over his shoulder and exited the chamber.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The elves were relieved beyond description to be out of Erebor and now riding home. A bright sun was shining up high in the blue and cloudless sky, giving life to the awakening earth, and a light breeze was blowing in the riders' faces and through their hair, carrying the scents of new leaf, young grass and moist soil of early spring. It would not be long before the aromas of the first blossoms would enrich the air. This experience came like a breath of life to the elves, who had longed for their reunion with nature during their two-week long confinement in that mountain. It was as if nature itself rejoiced with them for having ensured the allegiance of the dwarves and were at last out of Erebor.

Mirthful talk was going on amongst the riders. Even the usually grim and reserved Tinuven was in a fine mood.

"Did you see Dain's face during the dinner last night? I doubt he even enjoyed his food and wine. I bet it tasted like ash in his mouth!" he said and laughed.

"Well, he certainly was very unhappy to relent. Forced even", Iaurvir commented, bringing his bay horse closer to the Commander's.

"But he did relent at last, which is what matters!" Tinuven chimed.

Thranduil saw this as a good opportunity to throw in a pointed comment. "I will have you know we owe to a great extent this success to the efforts of the Captain", he said sharply, and glanced over to Tauriel.

"Is that so, Captain? What did you do to promote our cause?" the Commander asked with curiosity and a raised eyebrow.

Tauriel turned to face him with confidence. "I asked for an audience with him, and he granted it to me. He listened to what I told him, and in the end, he seemed to be considering joining us. Which he finally did", she briefly narrated.

"Well done, Captain. Your inclusion in this team proved wise and useful indeed", Tinuven acknowledged.

"Thank you for approving of my decisions, Tinuven", the Elvenking remarked rather sarcastically. The officer opened his mouth to offer an apology, but the King's raised hand halted him. "Do not bother with an apology; none is required", he spoke in a forbearing tone, and Tinuven lowered his gaze, smiling softly.

"Well, it seems that both of you, Commander and Captain, have played a key role in the success of the negotiations so far. You, lord Tinuven, managed to win Prince Brand over to our side, who in turn persuaded his father to aid us; and you, my dear Tauriel, have performed the difficult task of changing King Dain's mind. Congratulations, for you have put us councilors to shame!" Meduithel said and chuckled merrily.

A round of soft laughter ensued among the elves, while Tauriel and Tinuven exchanged slightly awkward glances and tiny smiles, both of them not used to receiving praise openly.

"My wife speaks right. We might as well rest in our home now and leave all the work to you!" Iaurvir joined in his wife's spirit.

"We may all take some rest in our home, Iaurvir, for we are in dire need of it after these long and hectic days in Erebor", said Thranduil in a serious tone, glancing over his shoulder to the mountain that was now shrinking in the distance. "Dain has admittedly exhausted my patience, and I would like to take my mind off of negotiations for a couple of days before we move on to Lorien".

"Yes, my lord", the councilor agreed. "Lorien can wait for a few days… Furthermore, I do not suppose we are going to be met with much resistance there".

"Neither do I. Their allegiance should be an easy one to procure", said Thranduil in a quiet voice, and then fell silent, as his mind traveled to the personal issue with Galadriel he had to resolve.

Tauriel observed his face as he now seemed distant and lost in thought, and she wondered what might be troubling him. For although she knew of Thranduil's visit to Lothlorien a few years after Lothrin's death, she knew nothing of the feelings of resentment he harbored in his heart for the Lady of the Golden Wood because of the heart-rending answers she had given him.

"Lady Galadriel has since long wished for the evil to be completely eradicated from Dol Guldur. In a letter of hers she had expressed her sadness for the returning of the Shadow to our forest after the brief period of peace that followed Sauron's expulsion", Meduithel spoke thoughtfully.

"Have you kept correspondence with her, lady Meduithel?" Thranduil inquired.

"Yes, but not on a regular basis… We last exchanged letters around five years ago", the lady admitted. "But I would like to visit Lothlorien, if I am to be sincere. It has been so long since I was last there, and my heart yearns for the peace of the Golden Wood", she added with a sigh and dreamy eyes.

Tauriel rode her horse closer to Meduithel's, so that she might speak with her in a more private manner. "My lady, how do Lothlorien and lady Galadriel look like? For I have heard stories of their beauty, but I have never seen them with my own eyes", she said timidly.

Meduithel turned her bright grey eyes to Tauriel and smiled. "Their beauty is unmatched, child. You shall not find a fairer place or a fairer lady in all of Middle Earth", she said. "Except perhaps for Arwen Undomiel, who is Luthien Tinuviel come to life again, as they say. But the beauty of the Lady of the Wood is different, Tauriel, for it is deep and ancient, and it is born of knowledge and wisdom. Her gaze is mesmerizing, her smile entrancing, her voice a song to the ear, and her words a balm for the troubled heart".

"I long to see the lady and walk in her woods", Tauriel whispered, while her keen imagination was already forming images of the Golden Wood and Galadriel, and in her thought, she was already wandering amongst the golden trees of Lorien.

"You shall, Captain. Soon enough, you shall", said Thranduil, and she lifted her eyes to look at him. His glance was quick, and did not linger. Instead, he spurred his horse to a faster trot. "Ride on, Eldar. Let us reach our home before nightfall".

* * *

By the twilight of the day the Elvenking and his company returned to his halls. Legolas and the members of the council received them with great joy, as well as curiosity to learn how things had gone in Dale and Erebor. After giving them some brief answers, Thranduil made for his chambers, closely followed by his son.

"So, Bain and Dain will join us!" the Prince exclaimed.

"Yes, son. Their alliance is sealed", Thranduil responded rather wearily and moved to rid himself of his riding cloak and boots.

"How did you manage that? I want to know of every detail!" Legolas enthusiastically went on.

His father gave him a sharp look. "I have only just arrived, Legolas. And I would rather have you tell me how things were here during my absence", he required.

Legolas came to stand close to him. "Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Our patrols burned a few more nests and killed a few more orcs, but nothing beyond that", he assured his father.

"So, there has been no change in the pattern of our enemies' attacks, is that right?"

The Prince shook his head in negation. "No. We have encountered random bands of orcs along our southern borders, but there was nothing new about them. Everything was as it has ever been", he answered.

"Good. It pleases me greatly to hear that. It means our enemies suspect nothing of our plans…" the Elvenking murmured with a soft smile.

"It would be a surprise if they did", Legolas commented, "seeing that you have disclosed your plans to very few people, and no official war preparations have yet begun. We must seem to the enemy as we always are".

"Indeed, and that is also part of my plan. We must prepare in secret; for we must not be fooled, ion nin, by the idleness of the Shadow. Our enemy is ancient and cunning, and has eyes and ears everywhere", the Elvenking replied in a low and guarded tone, while placing his swords to their rack, his fingers lingering upon the intricate hilts. He wondered how long it would be before he would put his lethal weapons to use once more.

The Prince nodded. "I understand that. My time with the Dunedain has taught me much, and amongst the lessons I learned was to never underestimate the enemy".

Thranduil glanced at his son and offered him a small smile of pride and approval. "Good".

Legolas held his father's gaze for a few long moments, feeling his heart swell with affection and satisfaction. Then his demeanor changed into a softer and lighter one, and he took a couple of steps towards the older ellon. "Come now, ada. Tell me what happened in Dale and Erebor", he went back to his initial demand.

Thranduil chuckled under his breath, as he moved to lower his weight into a luxurious armchair. "You will not leave me in peace if I do not recount every detail to you first…"

"Well… yes", his son admitted with a playful smirk.

"Fine then. Bring me some wine and I shall tell you how we persuaded those lords to join us…"

For the next few hours Thranduil narrated their experiences in those northern kingdoms. He described their reception at Dale, not forgetting to mention Bain's love for jewelry, and then he spoke of the process of the negotiations. He told him of his plan to have Tinuven speak to Brand, and the King's eventual consent to commit his forces to their cause. Next, he told Legolas of the obstinate King of the dwarves, his continuous insults, his tendency for brawls and his stubborn, ten-days long refusal to speak with the elves. Thranduil did not fail to say that it was Tauriel's initiative, which turned the tide in the end and Dain relented. He also spoke of his encounter with Thorin Stonehelm and the white gems.

"Well, that is all now, Legolas", he said when his narration had reached the end.

"So many things happened in such a short time… I am glad that all you companions proved useful, and especially Tauriel. I am sure you feel proud of her, father", Legolas said softly.

At the mention of her name Thranduil's face grew more relaxed, and a small smile curled his lips. "Yes… I am deeply proud of her. I was a little worried about her when we embarked on this mission, for I knew not with certainty whether she would be able to find her place among the others and move with confidence. But she did, Legolas, and very successfully so. Had it not been for her bold decision to speak to Dain in private, we would be still lingering inside that cursed mountain, waiting for that insufferable dwarf to do us the favor of speaking to us!" he said, unable to hide the venom from his tone, for it vexed him greatly when he spoke of Dain.

"Thankfully, his son is different, as you said. And since Dain appointed him leader of the dwarven forces, I do not expect that he shall cause us many problems", Legolas commented.

Thranduil rose from the bed and walked to the balcony. Night had fallen, and the stars were lit in the dark sky. "Yes… I expect our cooperation during the campaign will be smooth enough. Thorin is nothing like Dain. I could not believe my ears when he offered me your mother's jewels, son", he whispered the last words in a sorrowful tone.

"I understand why you refused to take them. But it must have hurt you deeply to have them within your grasp, and freely offered to you, and to still have to say no", the Prince said softly as he came to stand beside his father.

"Indeed…" the Elvenking admitted, letting out a sigh, and then hung his head. "At the sight of them memories of your mother came too vivid in my mind, Legolas. It was a very tough choice to turn my back to her necklace, the one I would for centuries admire on her chest, the one my mother wore before her…"

His voice faded into the air, as bitter tears rose to his eyes, but he fought them back, for he did not wish to appear weak in front of his son. But Legolas understood, and gently touched his father's shoulder.

"You chose to do what was best for your people. You made a wise decision, father, and for that I admire you, and I am proud of you", he spoke with tender fervor.

The Elvenking turned his face to look at his son, deeply moved by his words. He searched the young ellon's face, and in those eyes he found the compassion and wisdom of his departed wife. It was a soothing thought to know that she would always live on through her son. "Hannon le, ion nin", he whispered in a broken voice.

He then extended his arm towards Legolas, and the latter took a step forward, enclosing himself in his father's embrace. Thranduil even dropped a kiss on the top of his son's head. "My elfling…" he murmured. "Pride of my life and joy of my heart… I missed you".

Legolas smiled and nodded, disentangling himself from his father's arms so as to look at him. "As did I". He then took a step backwards. "But I have tired you enough, ada, and you need to rest. We shall have more time for conversation, come tomorrow. And truly, how long do you plan on staying before you depart for Lothlorien?"

"Only a few days, Legolas. The sooner we are done with this quest, the better. War preparations must begin soon", he replied.

"Will the same people accompany you?" the Prince wondered.

"Why, yes. I am very pleased with their performance, and I like their company as well. I could even call them friends", Thranduil mused.

"Except for Tauriel…" Legolas said with a mischievous grin.

The Elvenking looked at him and raised a dark eyebrow. "Do not tease me, son!"

"You know I mean no disrespect. It is just nice to see you mirthful, father, that is all", he responded quietly.

Thranduil's countenance turned mellow. "I have her, and I have you. How can I not be joyous?" he asked rhetorically and placed his hand on the other elf's shoulder.

Legolas smiled. "Indeed. But I shall be going now, for it is getting late. Rest well, ada".

"I shall, ion nin. Thank you".

* * *

Tauriel was glad to be back home. For, although she had enjoyed that trip to the north and her first experience of partaking in the shaping of the fates of the world, she had missed her chamber, her bed, and the blooming royal gardens.

That is where she was now leisurely and absent-mindedly sauntering, enjoying a golden sun and the fragrant wind. The bright beams stirred the energy of her _fea,_ and the wind whispered songs of rebirth in her ears. The soil beneath her feet was humming with the flow of life. Her senses were revived, and she felt alive and one with nature.

But this garden also held memories for her. She reached a marble bench and sat upon it. Here it was, where she had her first sentimental exchange with her King; here he had explained to her his reasons for marching to Erebor, and she had finally understood his motives. And he had told her for the first time of the white gems and their meaning; he had told her of Gundabad and his wife's tragic death. And finally, he had told her of his heart's longing to love. He had chosen – and it had seemed quite unexpected to her back then – to open up to her, to trust her.

It was here, where she first started developing feelings for Thranduil.

Tauriel's fingertips traveled upon the cool and smooth surface of the bench, and she let out a sigh. She remembered that day as if it had only been yesterday, but in truth more than six years had passed since then. Her King and she had gone through a lot; their story began long ago, with her being saved from the orcs by him, and the most recent chapter had them striving together to secure the alliance of the northern kingdoms in a march against Dol Guldur. But what more would the future bring?

Her musings were interrupted by the sound of steps nearing. She lifted her eyes, and to her surprise Tinuven was there.

"My lord Commander?"

"Greetings, Captain. I hope I am not bothering you", he started.

"No, not at all. I was just passing my time in leisure. Is there something I could assist you with?" she offered, but could not help but feel a measure of worry and apprehension in her heart, for her most recent conversations with Tinuven had not been exactly pleasant.

"Actually…" he uttered with some hesitation. "I simply wished to talk to you".

"About what?" she required a tad too curtly, and stood from the bench, ready to assume a defensive stance, if necessary.

He regarded her for a short while, observing her disposition, before answering. "About our relation, and my behavior towards you".

Surprise was now drawn all over her fine features, and she allowed herself to relax a bit, since he did not sound aggressive. But what did the Commander mean to say?

"Well, I am listening to you, lord Tinuven", she prompted him.

"I admit I have been unkind towards you, Captain. I should not have doubted your intentions; for, if my King does not doubt you, then I should not either. You have proved your worth and your purpose when you spoke to Dain", he told her, not without some nervousness in his voice.

Tauriel opened her mouth to respond, but held back for a moment, contemplating what to say. _It is alright now, lord Tinuven._ Or, i _t matters not, for I understand why you were skeptical towards me, lord Tinuven._ Such possible replies crossed her mind, but she decided against them. What had Thranduil told her? That she had to start behaving like a Queen. Then she might as well do so.

"Is that an apology, lord Tinuven?" she asked him and lifted her chin slightly.

"Well, yes, I guess it is…" he stammered, somewhat taken aback by her tone.

"I shall gladly accept it then", she told him with a small smile.

Tinuven nodded his thanks, feeling a strange awkwardness taking over him, and he turned to leave. Had he, a Commander of the army, suddenly been humbled before Tauriel, who was naught but a mere Captain in the Guard, or was it just his impression?

"Lord Tinuven", she called at him, preventing his departure.

"My lady?" He turned over his shoulder to look at her.

"You may stay a while longer, if you wish. Now that we are resolved on that petty matter, I do not see why we cannot try and be friends. We are both members of the same team, anyway", she suggested with a kind smile. _Oh yes, Tinuven._ _Let me know you better, so that I am better prepared for your comments and reactions from now on. And perhaps I can get you to like me. That would be helpful and convenient, seeing that I am your future Queen,_ Tauriel thought, marveling at herself for having at last accepted her role fully and acting upon it.

He stood speechless for a second, unsure of what to say. "Well, alright, Captain. I do not see why not, as I am not otherwise preoccupied at the moment", he finally acceded.

"Good!" she chimed. "Let us take a walk, shall we? These gardens have always been a favorite of mine, ever since I had been brought in the Elvenking's halls", she told him in a pleasant tone.

He turned his green eyes to her, which were only a shade darker than hers. Green or hazel eyes were quite common amongst the Silvan population, unlike the Sindar, who usually had blue or grey eyes. Tinuven was of mixed origin, but clearly his mother's Silvan traits prevailed.

"You must have been very young then, if I remember correctly", he commented, still feeling surprised by Tauriel's behavior, and all the more by her choice to refer to her childhood, which was a rather private matter.

"Yes, I was a mere child", she confirmed. "Our King saved my life and took pity upon me, for my mother had just been slain by the orcs, and my father had been killed in a battle not so very long before that. So, he took me with him and brought me here", Tauriel narrated, and sorrow fell upon her brow at the bitter remembrance of her parents' passing.

"You shall see them again on the golden shores of Valinor, one day", Tinuven told her in a voice she had not known the grim Commander possessed, for his tone now was soft and compassionate.

"Yes, one day…" she repeated after him with a sigh. "My mother was a simple elf of the Wood, a seamstress by trade. Lainel was her name. My father was Elboron, a Captain in the Guard. You knew of him, perhaps?"

"Elboron? Ah yes, I remember him. You look quite like him, in fact", he said with a gentle smile.

Tauriel returned the smile and nodded. "What about your parents, lord Commander?"

Tinuven's face resumed a thoughtful and slightly grimmer expression. "My father was Commander Arveldir… He lost his life in that battle before Erebor's gates, sixty-one years ago".

"I remember him. He was a fine ellon, and an excellent officer", Tauriel said.

"He had been a friend to King Oropher. He was a Sinda, you see. Together they left Doriath after its destruction, and finally they came and settled in these woods. He dutifully served Oropher, and mourned his death on the slopes of Orodruin. He faithfully supported his son, Thranduil, when he assumed the mantle, and remained loyal to him up till his very last breath", Tinuven narrated, and sorrow was now evident in his gaze.

"As are you… Your loyalty is beyond doubt", the Captain said softly.

Tinuven turned to look at her, and saw only honesty and good will in her eyes. Slowly, he nodded. Then he turned his gaze ahead again. "It was here in these woods that my father met my mother. You must know her, for she is the head of the healers".

"Alfirimbes?" Tauriel asked rather incredulously. "Alfirimbes is your mother?"

"Indeed she is", Tinuven said and smiled.

"She has treated me several times, when I received wounds during the patrols. She is the sweetest and gentlest elleth I have known, and a very adept healer", said Tauriel. "I knew she had a son, but I had no idea it was you", she remarked.

"Well, the truth is I am not one for the public eye. Few knew me before I was appointed Commander. I have always chosen the solitary life of the soldier, you see, not caring for the fancy festivities or public relations. I only rarely accompanied my father to official meetings, when duty called, and that happened only after I had climbed to a certain rank in the military. As for my mother…" Tinuven made a short pause and sighed. "We have been rather estranged the latter years. She never approved of my choice to join the army, for fear of losing me to an enemy's sword. Ironically, it would seem we are lost to each other anyway", he commented and smiled bitterly. "It is no surprise that a young elf like you had no idea Alfirimbes is my mother", he explained, and Tauriel nodded. She could have never imagined the sadness Tinuven's tory held, and now she felt she could understand the reason behind his often curt and rather antisocial manner a bit better. "But I also have a sister. She lives in Lorien with her husband", Tinuven added, wishing to lighten the mood of the conversation.

The Captain smiled and nodded. "Oh, that is nice. You shall have the chance to visit her very soon, then".

"Yes… I have not seen her in the recent years, and I have missed her. But I do not begrudge her her decision to move to Lothlorien. It is a much brighter and safer place than Mirkwood", the Commander said and glanced over to the treetops in the distance.

"It is true that our forest has grown very dark and gloomy, and it saddens my Silvan heart to see it so", she responded, following his gaze. "But the Golden Wood must be very different… I cannot wait to visit it", Tauriel exclaimed. "Have you been there many times, lord Tinuven?"

"Quite a few, actually. A visit to my sister is a very good excuse to escape Mirkwood for a few days, although this has not been possible lately, as I said", he admitted. But then his thoughts traveled elsewhere, and his expression became distant and sorrowful.

Tauriel observed him for a short while. "I suspect your sister is not the only reason you wish to pay frequent visits to Lorien, my lord, if it is not too bold to say", she attempted to uncover his thoughts.

He turned his eyes to her and shook his head. "You are quite perceptive, Captain".

She smiled, but spoke not, wishing not to press him further, if he was not willing to share more. But his silence did not last for long, and he spoke again.

"There is someone else I like meeting in Lorien, a guard in Haldir's company..." Tinuven said with an imperceptible sigh. "Have you heard of Haldir? He is a marchwarden and a messenger for the lady Galadriel".

"No, I have not, but I suppose I shall meet him soon enough. Well, who is that guard you like seeing?" Tauriel inquired, feeling that she was slightly pressing her luck, but she decided to take the chance, for her curiosity was picked.

"I do not even know her name, for she always follows Haldir in obedient silence. But she is tall and fair, and her eyes are bright and keen", he described her from memory and a longing awoke in his heart.

A sad smile rose on Tauriel's lips. So, the rumors were true, and the Commander did indeed pine for an elleth of Lothlorien – and a simple guard at that.

"Have you ever spoken to her?" she asked him.

"Well, no. What could I ever say to her? And she would never stay for long. I would usually meet her briefly, upon my entrance to Lorien, and then she would disappear with her company", Tinuven replied, now feeling strangely calm and relaxed in Tauriel's presence. He had started to feel he could trust her.

She gave him a side-glance. _Well-trained in the art of war he may be, but in the game of love he seems to be a complete novice,_ Tauriel thought with sympathy, and suddenly a wicked idea came to her. "If I promise to help things between you two move forward, will you also promise not to look upon me suspiciously again, lord Tinuven?" she proposed brazenly, seeking to strike a bargain.

He stopped in his steps, surprised by her unforeseen suggestion. "Would you do that? How?" he wondered.

"Well, I am a guard, and so is she. I think I know where to begin", Tauriel replied and smiled deviously.

Tinuven could not help but let out some short laughter at this sudden turn of events. Out of the blue, an ember of hope was lit in his heart. Could it be possible that with Tauriel's help he could win the heart of the elleth he had admired from afar all these years?

"Alright then, Captain. I accept your proposition, and I promise to do as you asked", he finally told her.

Tauriel smiled brightly and came to stand opposite him. She extended her hand, and he took it. "We have an accord, Commander".

* * *

It was late evening when Thranduil left his chambers and hurriedly walked to Tauriel's. They had shared no private time since their return to Mirkwood, and he now yearned for her touch, he longed to take her in his arms and love her.

Quietly he pushed the door open and stepped inside her room. The fireplace was lit, but she was nowhere to be seen. Then his sensitive ears caught the sound of trickling water, and he inwardly smiled.

Silent as a wraith he moved to the doorway that led into the adjoining chamber, and he stayed there, hiding in the shadows. But his eyes took in the image before him, and his senses stirred at once into awareness.

For there was Tauriel in the pool, standing naked in the middle of it, bathing herself in the fragrant water. Her flaming red hair was let loose and free of any braids, wet and cascading down her back like a waterfall of fire. Her skin was white and luminous, and the droplets of water tentatively licked its every curve and dimple, running down in small streams until they became one with the water of the pool again. In her hands she held a bathing rug, and she gently scrubbed her body clean, dipping the cloth every now and then in the water.

She had her back turned to him, oblivious to his secret presence, but he kept watching her, mesmerized by the gentle caress of the water around her slim waist. If she moved or stooped a little, he could catch brief glimpses of her nether and so tempting regions. And then she dove in the water, washing her hair off, and emerged from it to face him, offering him an exquisite view of her glowing face, her supple breasts and taut abdomen. Desire was now burning hard inside him and arousal stirred in his loins, but he did not want to disrupt the enchanting vision he was beholding, and he remained hidden in the shadows, watching her.

Tauriel dipped the cloth in the water once again, and as she ran it along her arm, she said, "I know you are there…", and a smile curled her lips. "Will you linger in the shadows or will you join me?"

She turned her gaze towards the place he was hiding, and now he had no other option but to step into the light. And so he did, revealing himself to her.

"Tauriel…" he hoarsely whispered her name.

She looked at him with a challenging smile, and waded closer to the ledge of the pool. "Will you undress yourself, or shall I do it for you, my lord?" she asked him under the pretense of formality.

Thranduil found it difficult to answer, for his breath was caught in his throat. He only kept watching Tauriel's every move, as she stepped out of the pool and moved to untie the cord of his robes. She pushed the heavy fabric from his shoulders, and it fell to the floor with a whoosh. A look to his eyes, now half-lidded, intense and dark with desire, and another to the straining front of his trousers lit the flame of lust in her own body as well.

Slowly she reached for his waistband, allowing her fingers to tease him for a while, causing him to produce nigh inaudible gasps. But he caught her hand before she moved any further.

"I saw you speaking with Tinuven in the gardens earlier today…" he muttered.

"You saw us?" she wondered in disbelief, whilst trying in vain to free her hand.

"My chambers have a view of the gardens, in case you have forgotten…" he informed her. "You seemed to be enjoying a very lively and quite friendly chat", he remarked huskily, raising an eyebrow.

A side-smirk crept upon Tauriel's rosy lips. "Do I sense now that you are jealous, my love?" she asked him, and, since she could not remove her hand from his grip, she cunningly pressed it forward against his private parts, which resulted in his biting on his lower lip.

"What if I am jealous? Should I be?" he gasped.

She laughed merrily. "My love…" she whispered to him lovingly, and her eyes were bright and looking at him with utter devotion.

Unable to resist any longer, he released his hold of her and brought up both his hands and cupped her face, kissing her hungrily, fiercely, wantonly. She wound her arms around his torso and pulled him close to her, both desperate to feel each other. The sudden touch of her wet skin on his sent a thrill coursing through his limbs, and excited him even further.

Before long he, too, was free of any restraining garment, and his hands sought to travel all over her body, as did hers.

"Come…" she whispered to him breathily, and led him into the pool.

Enveloped now by the lukewarm water, both elves allowed their senses to relax, and delivered themselves unto each other completely, until the margins of their separate existences were blurred and lost.

They became one in body as they were in spirit, strong and inseparable in the safety of their love.

* * *

 _A/N: My most sincere apologies for this prolonged absence! It has been nearly a year since I last updated this story, but it was not due to lack of motive. Plainly enough, life happened. My job is very demanding and takes up most of my time (and much of my free time as well). But the thought of returning to the story had been pestering me for months, so here I am now, here it is now, updated with a new chapter! There are more in the works, and although I cannot promise a frequent or regular update, I ask all of you who have liked this story so far, stay tuned, and thank you!_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

It took Thranduil and his company about a week's leisurely ride to reach Lothlorien. This time they were accompanied by a larger host of guards, since they had to cross all the way through the western expanse of Mirkwood, which was expected to be teeming with spiders and even random bands of orcs. Their crossing was not free of incidents, but, luckily, the experienced elves and their King were met with nothing they could not handle successfully.

Once they were out of the elven gate, their path was relatively safer, as they followed a southern course along the Anduin. The riders rode through the beautiful valley of the Great River, with the Misty Mountains framing its western border and the eaves of Mirkwood defining its eastern one. However, but for the beauty of the scenery, apprehension gripped the hearts of the elves the closer they got to their destination, for the dark shadow of Dol Guldur loomed in the distance, unfailing in reminding them of its evil presence.

Because it was spring, the weather was generally pleasant, though somewhat chilly during the night and early morning. It was afternoon when they neared the Golden Wood, and the day was graced with gentle and warm sunlight and a light breeze. Here Thranduil instructed his guards and servants to set up camp, so that he could enter Lothlorien with his counselors only; the rest were not required to accompany him now, for no danger lurked inside that forest.

As soon as his host had settled and everything had been taken care of, the Elvenking and his close companions were ready to depart. He mounted his steed with grace and looked ahead of him, breathing deeply the fragrant air. "Let us now enter the ancient woods of Lorien", he announced in a reverent tone, with his gaze turned towards the blooming trees, and signaled for the rest to follow him.

Before long the Mirkwood elves were surrounded by tree and leaf very different from those of their own forest, and they marveled at the breathtaking sight around them. This extraordinary wood was comprised of a unique species of tree, the _mallorn,_ and it was named so for its golden foliage. The _mellyrn_ were large and tall trees with silver-grey barks. Golden were their leaves during winter, and silver they turned in spring. Now they had begun shedding their golden leaves, for spring was come, and a golden carpet covered the ground. Young leaves were springing on the branches, and they glimmered green and silver, while the first golden blossoms had just sprouted.

There was an almost inaudible humming in the air, lyrical and melodious, and their surroundings gave out an imperceptible vibration, for these woods were filled with life and magic, and protected by the power of Nenya, and they sang with a voice of their own.

Birds chirped merrily upon the branches, squirrels played hide-and-seek, and at times a fawn might raise its curious head from behind a nearby bush, only to dart away immediately afterwards.

Memories awoke in Thranduil's mind, as he slowly guided his steed through the trees. He had not been in the Golden Wood for eons, but its sight he had not forgotten. This elven haven was strong and shielded from the influence of evil, untainted by it, but for the very close proximity of its source. No orc or other foul creature would ever dare step its filthy foot inside this forest, for the power of the elves was prominent here, and the wielder of this power was the most ancient and wise elf to still walk on Middle Earth: Galadriel.

 _Galadriel_. Her name, even the soundless remembrance of it, brought a chill and a shiver to Thranduil. For he felt small and insignificant and powerless when in her presence, and his royal self was not used to such emotions of inferiority. He would be a liar not to admit he was terrified by her power, and by her ability to speak into his mind and read his thoughts. There was nothing he could keep hidden from the Lady, and for that he felt exposed and vulnerable, and he hated to feel so. Thranduil was used to always being in control of every situation, and to feeling superior towards anyone else; but here, he knew he was at her mercy.

He glanced around warily; he was certain her thoughts were everywhere at once, in the whispering of the leaves and in the purling of the streams. He knew she was watching him and his companions through her mind's eye, very aware of their presence.

Furthermore, there was this old burden in his heart that plagued him, this unjust grudge he bore against the Lady, and every step closer they were taking to her dwelling, the more difficult his personal mission seemed to him. True enough, he was afraid to face her.

With a sigh he lowered his gaze, letting it wander off on the golden path before them. And then he heard it; he heard her voice in his head.

" _I know your purpose, Elvenking… You are coming to us with a determined mind but a troubled heart…"_

It was naught but a passing whisper, but he instinctively jerked his head to the side, his senses instantly heightened and alert, although he had half expected her to enter his thoughts.

The other elves soon portrayed similar reactions. The most collected amongst them was Tinuven, while the most bewildered one Tauriel.

" _Tauriel… Your path has only begun revealing itself…"_

Galadriel's words echoed in the young elleth's head, and she was mystified by them.

"Is that… Is that the Lady speaking to us?" she stuttered fearfully, her emerald eyes scanning her surroundings for possible hidden threats.

"Yes, Captain… Do not alarm yourself. It the way of the Lady", Tinuven answered her calmly.

"Fear not, child", Meduithel whispered to her and gifted her with a small smile.

Tauriel nodded weakly, and then she tried to glance over to Thranduil and see what his reaction was, in hopes of understanding why he chose to remain silent. She could only see his profile from her position in the group, and it was partially obscured by shadows, his head clearly bent and his expression grim. But, unlike Galadriel, she knew nothing of his thoughts, and so his stance remained an unsolved riddle to her.

"We shall meet with the marchwarden Haldir soon, I presume", the Commander spoke again and looked into the distance. "He is usually the one to receive strangers, or guests for that matter".

Beside him Iaurvir sighed. "Nobody walks into the Golden Wood unattended to… or unguarded", he said in a low tone.

"Of course. No sovereign wants intruders and trespassers in their realm", Thranduil commented, at last lifting his head and glancing at the councilor from over his shoulder. "But we need not fear; I have sent word to Celeborn and they are expecting us".

Now, Lothlorien was not a kingdom in the absolute sense of the word, as Thranduil's realm was, for example. Celeborn and Galadriel did indeed rule over the elven population of these woods, but they had not assumed the titles of King and Queen. However, they were King and Queen in all things but title and title alone, and they were treated by everyone as such.

"But for the incomparable beauty of this place, I cannot but feel a measure of apprehension… It is just too-" Tauriel began, but was interrupted by Thranduil.

"Hush!" he ordered, and raised his hand, motioning for his companions to halt their mounts, while his eyes searched the trees and bushes around.

A rustling sound of moving branches and leaves was then heard, and a small host of elves suddenly emerged from all sides, encircling the riders. Although their weapons were not raised, it was evident that those guards were well-armed with bow and daggers, and would not hesitate to use them, should the need arise.

The one who seemed to be their leader walked forth towards Thranduil. He was a quite tall and well-built ellon, with sand-blonde hair and hazel eyes. His upward-slanted brows gave him an imperious look, and his eyes examined the Elvenking keenly.

"Mae govannen, Thranduil Oropherion, King of the Woodland Realm", he spoke in a clear and slightly nasal voice, as he brought his hand over the place of his heart and offered the Elvenking a bow.

"Haldir of Lorien", Thranduil acknowledged him and returned the gesture. "We are glad to meet with you".

The marchwarden nodded with a kind smile upon his face. "The Lord and Lady have been expecting your arrival. You are welcome here, Elvenking, as are your companions", he spoke, and then his curious eye fell on the others, assessing them one by one. "Lord Tinuven I recognize, as well as lord Iaurvir and lady Meduithel, for they have stepped foot in the Golden Wood before. But who is the other one that accompanies you?" he inquired and turned his gaze to Tauriel.

"She is Tauriel Elboroniel, a Captain in the Guard", Thranduil replied, introducing her.

Tauriel smiled and nodded, trying to contain her nervousness.

"Very well. Nobody is a stranger now. You are amongst friends here", Haldir said reassuringly, seeming pleased. "Dismount now, if you will, and follow me. The Lord and Lady await you".

With that he turned and signaled for his company to assist the Mirkwood elves as they dismounted.

Tauriel hopped off her horse and smiled to the elleth who had approached her, ready to offer her help with anything she might ask. She in turn nodded, but kept a serious face. The Captain took a moment to observe her. The guard was dressed in a silver-grey tunic and had a matching cloak draped upon her shoulders, just like all the other guards. Tauriel thought that these colors worked well here, for they blended effectively with the silver-grey of the tree barks, making the elves nearly invisible.

The elleth was of fair complexion, with long, flaxen hair and honey-brown eyes. Her face was sweet, though somewhat solemn. Tauriel caught her glimpsing with curiosity at her own reddish locks, and smiled.

"I take it red hair is not common amongst your people?" she gently asked her as they began walking side by side.

"Not really, it is not", the guard replied. "Most of the Eldar here have dark blond or light brown hair…"

"You are one with your Golden Wood, it seems", Tauriel commented cheerfully, and the other offered her a reserved smile.

Then, as if guided by some inexplicable instinct, she glanced over to Tinuven, and saw that he was watching them with great intensity in his gaze. But as soon as he took notice of Tauriel looking at his direction, he lowered his face and averted his eyes. And then Tauriel realized that the elleth, who was now walking next to her, was the one the Commander loved, and she inwardly smiled.

"What is your name? Mine is Tauriel, as you must have heard earlier", she resumed chatting with her.

"Daughter of the forest… It is a beautiful name", the guard mused. "Mine is Elhedril".

 _Elhedril she is, then. Poor Tinuven,_ Tauriel thought. _All these years and he did not even manage to muster the courage to ask her name! Who would expect that from someone so brave on the battlefield?_

"Your name is also beautiful. It is a pleasure knowing you, Elhedril", Tauriel told her in a friendly manner.

The other elf nodded and smiled briefly. "And you".

After that she fell silent, turning her attention to her surroundings and being alert to every single noise, as she had been trained to do. And the golden path ahead of them carried on and on…

* * *

The night had fallen and the stars were shining, when Haldir and those following him neared the end of their course. As soon as they came upon the precipice of a small cliff, he motioned for everyone to stop, and he pointed into the distance.

"Behold Caras Galadhon, fabled city of the Galadhrim", he spoke with shining eyes and a bright smile.

Before them and atop a green hill, enclosed in the triangle formed by the confluence of the rivers Celebrant and Anduin, stood a walled and surrounded by a fosse city. But it was a city unlike any other, for it consisted not of buildings, domes and spires, but of trees. Although it was dark, the trees glowed with an ethereal silver-blue light, and the foreigners wondered at the spectacular sight in front of their eyes.

Then Haldir resumed walking. Downhill they went and then across a white bridge, and soon they came to the gates of Caras Galadhon, which were located to the south-west. Guards in golden armor were standing before them, and they opened them as soon as the company approached, granting them passage into the city.

"Leave your horses here", Haldir instructed the Mirkwood elves, and they entrusted their mounts in the care of the stable workers. "We shall make for the Lord and Lady's dwelling on foot".

On white stone-paved paths they walked, and all around them they saw the tallest and largest trees that were in these woods. High upon their boughs flets had been constructed ages ago, and white ladders led up to them. They were the _telain_ , where the Galadhrim lived. Additionally, canopied spiral staircases wound about the tree-barks of the largest trees, and they were illuminated by lamps that emanated that otherworldly silver-blue light, which made the whole city glow like a single star.

Unbeknownst to her, Tauriel was holding her breath, as she was looking around with the amazement and thrill of a child. Amongst her companions, she was the only one to have never visited Lothlorien before, and she was deeply impressed by the sight.

Uphill they walked, until they reached its top, which open into a wide plateau, and there stood the tallest and most majestic mallorn in all of Lothlorien. At the root of it was a small pool made of white marble and in the likeness of swans, and a path wound about it and led to the tree itself. From there began a staircase similar to the rest, but greater and more ornate.

"This is the home of lord Celeborn and lady Galadriel", Haldir informed the others.

And then they began ascending the stairs. Higher and higher they got, until they reached the top of the staircase and came upon a large _talan._ A home was built on this talan and around the trunk of the tree, and Galadhrim archers stood close to the edges of the flet – which, by the way, had no railing.

The gates of the house then opened, and Galadriel with Celeborn stepped outside. Dressed in white they both were, and fine silver circlets were upon their heads. Celeborn was a wise Sindarin lord, tall and handsome, with grey eyes and silver-blond hair, only a shade darker than Thranduil's. He was an imposing figure in his own right, but he paled in comparison to his wife. The Lady's face glowed with an inner peace and beauty, and in her sparkling blue eyes was deep wisdom of ages gone and knowledge of everything that was, and even some that had not yet come to pass. The color of her long tresses was an incredible mix of golden and silver, like the light of the Two Trees themselves. The Lord and Lady joined hands as they descended the few stairs, and upon Galadriel's finger shone Nenya like a dazzling white star. Graceful and soundless in their step they were, as they came to stand in front of their guests.

The Lady's intelligent eyes fell on the newcomers, assessing them one by one, while her husband spoke.

"Welcome, Thranduil, King of the Woodland elves. I had been awaiting your coming, and it is a joy to receive you in my house, as well as your companions", he said in a deep voice and slightly extended his hand in a gesture of welcome.

" _We have much to talk about, Thranduil…"_ Galadriel's voice whispered in his head. "Welcome, Elvenking. You desire to speak with us, and speak we shall", she said aloud and offered him a cryptic smile.

Thranduil tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes momentarily. "Thank you, my lord and lady. I am honored to be welcomed in your realm", he responded, feeling terrible unease in the presence of the Lady, whose eyes were now bearing hard into his. Mustering all his self-control and millennia-long experience, he schooled his expression into a calm one, striving to hide his discomfort from the others, but there was no hiding it from Galadriel.

" _There is a burden in your heart… Deep sorrow, but also love",_ she whispered again.

"We are akin, Thranduil Oropherion. And kin are always welcome in the house of Celeborn", the Lord responded gracefully, and Thranduil slightly bowed his head before him, while the Lady's words echoed in his thoughts.

Then Galadriel paced towards the other elves, greeting each of them in turn. Lastly, she came before Tauriel.

"It is the first time you visit our home, young Tauriel", she spoke gently.

"Yes, my lady", Tauriel affirmed breathily and lowered her gaze, feeling awed before her majesty.

" _Your heart is strong and true and your spirit pure…"_ she heard the Lady's voice in her head. _"Fear not, for you are not alone"._ Then she lightly touched the red-haired elleth's chin, prompting her to raise her face. "You are welcome here".

Galadriel then took a few steps backwards, and looked over their guests. "Rest now, and free your thoughts of trouble and sorrow. You may find peace here, for this place is safe and untouched by evil…"

* * *

Though of rest and peace Galadriel had spoken, Thranduil could find neither that night. Weary from his restlessness and sleeplessness, he rose from his bed with a sigh and walked out of the room and onto the talan. There was no point in tossing and turning in the sheets, since sleep would not come upon his eyes. Perhaps the chill and freshness of the night air would help him clear his thoughts.

He glanced around him. The talan he and his elves had been given was a large one, and designed to host guests. Numerous flets were built upon three neighboring trees on different levels, and they interconnected directly or with bridges and ladders. Around the tree-trunks chambers were constructed, and they contained all manner of comfort; beds and dressers, cabinets and tables and chairs, as well as a hearth and a bathing tub, all made after the elven fashion and neatly arranged, so that the sight was very pleasing to the eye.

But no solace could the Elvenking find inside his chamber. His mind was troubled, for the words of Galadriel kept returning in his thoughts, and he had grown agitated. But now the night breeze blew in his face, and he hoped it would help him relax a little. Pulling his robes tighter about him, for the cold had not yet abandoned the nights of spring, he took a few steps closer to the edge of the talan and peered into the distance. Other telain he could see around him, but silence reigned everywhere. Very few Galadhrim could be seen, and those were only guards, noiselessly going about their nightly shifts, free of true worry, for nothing could harm their city as long as the power of Galadriel protected it.

 _Ah, the power of Galadriel,_ Thranduil mused, and his thoughts subsequently darkened. How profoundly he had always desired a power similar to hers! How much he had wished for a ring like Nenya, to wield and protect his kingdom and his people! Then no evil would stain his woods, no foul orc would ever dare cross his borders. His people would enjoy peace and prosperity in a realm that would possibly be even grander and more majestic than Lothlorien. And he would be a mighty elf lord, the mightiest Elvenking that had ever been, nearing even Thingol's glory, whom he deeply admired and whose ways he had sought to follow.

But, alas, the elven Rings were only three, and none had been given to him.

With a sigh he averted his gaze and moved to sit on a bench, sulking in his thoughts. Not only was Galadriel far more powerful than him – far more powerful than any other elf on Middle Earth at this point of time, for that matter – but he also had to apologize to her for the unjust resentment he felt towards her. He knew that she would forgive him; in fact, she had probably never been angry with him in the first place. It was not a doubt about her behavior that disturbed him; it was that he actually _had to apologize._ And Thranduil was not used to apologizing to anyone, not even to his own self.

"Thranduil?"

Tauriel's soft and whispering voice caused him to glance over his shoulder with a startle, jumping into alertness all at once. But the sight of her slender form slowly approaching him chased away any worrisome thought, and his furrowed brow now relaxed.

"Tauriel… What are you doing out here?" he inquired, without ever tearing his eyes off of her.

"I heard footsteps, and I thought to look into it", she replied.

A small smile crept upon the Elvenking's face. "Ever the guard you are".

"Old habits die hard, they say", she responded with a smile of her own. "How about you? What led you to walk out here in the cold night?" she asked him, as she came and stood behind his seated form, and tenderly placed a hand upon his shoulder.

He brought his hand to twine with hers, and tilted his head towards her touch. "Insomnia", he murmured.

Tauriel brought her free hand to caress his silver strands, running her nimble fingers through the length of his hair and barely grazing his skull. Thranduil closed his eyes, shivering at her touch, and dropped his head back, enjoying her ministrations immensely. Observing his reaction, she smiled.

"I can tell you are tense", she commented. "Why? This is supposed to be a place of tranquility, peace and relaxation, away from the evils of the world".

"Yes… Lorien may be shielded from the outer forces of evil, but what about the evil we carry ourselves?" he asked pointedly and turned his eyes to look into hers.

Tauriel gave him a worried look and came to sit beside him. "What do you mean to say?"

"I have been plagued by troubling thoughts ever since we began our journey to Lorien. It is not only the military alliance I need to secure here. Were it only that, I would not be troubled at all, for Celeborn is bound to aid us. But I have a personal issue to resolve, and it is old and grievous…", he began explaining, and a sigh escaped his lips.

"What personal issue? Is there more you have not told me, Thranduil?" Tauriel demanded, and a hurt look was upon her face now.

He held her gaze for a mere second before casting his eyes low. "I am very old, Tauriel. and countless things took place before you were even a thought in your parents' minds. So please, do not accuse me of secrecy, for that is not the case", he responded wearily.

The Captain sighed and leaned back in the bench, lowering her eyes as well. Her hands fiddled with the fabric of her robes, as she contemplated his words. "I do not doubt what you say. But still, although you knew we would be visiting Lorien, you did not even think to tell me what this personal issue is? Perhaps I could have done something to ease your burden…"

There was hurt and slight anger in her tone, but the Elvenking remained silent, never raising his eyes. He had no answer or excuse to offer her that might please her.

His silence irritated her. "So, you do not trust me", she murmured bitterly.

He finally turned to face her. "Do not say that".

She stood from the bench. "I thought we had made some progress towards understanding each other, trusting each other, sharing everything… Apparently, I was wrong".

At that she turned and made to leave, but he caught her arm in time. She instantly went stiff.

"Tauriel", he called to her. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded under a furrowed brow.

"I do not know. You tell me", she retorted defiantly, but there was pain in her eyes and tone.

"Is that your way of dealing with problems? Walking out on them? Is that your way of dealing _with me_?" His eyes and voice now mirrored hers, for despair had crept in his heart as soon as Tauriel had turned from him, and it now mingled with rising ire.

"Do not turn the tables here, Thranduil. For it is not me the one who has misbehaved, who has chosen to keep secrets and shown mistrust", she retorted with narrowed eyes and yanked her arm, but he held her in place.

"You accuse me of mistrust and misbehavior, and yet here you are, ready and eager to run away from me, instead of staying and allowing me the chance to explain", he told her in a tone that was now filled with hurt.

Feeling his disappointment and the desperate plea of his _fea_ to reach hers, and realizing he was right in what he had just said, she allowed her body to relax in his grip, and motioned for him to let go of her, gently grasping his hand by the wrist. He immediately unclasped his fingers from about her arm this time, and drew back.

Tauriel stood opposite him and lifted her eyes to his. "No, this is not my way of dealing with problems. Not anymore. And certainly not with you", she murmured in a broken voice, her eyes now glistening with newly-formed tears. "Have I not proved that? I am not running away anymore. I am trying to be there for you, Thranduil, to understand the depths of your heart and mind, to heal your scars, to be your companion, you friend, your lover, your Queen even… But you are making it so hard for me. You still shut me out of your life at times, even though you may not realize it always. You do not share with me the secrets of your heart willingly; you do not seek me out to tell me what is bothering you. It is I who must come to you every time and try to unravel your pain and then take it away. But this hurts me, mell nin, and it exhausts me. I want you to know this".

Tauriel finished her short monologue and looked away, as a tear now ran down her cheek. Thranduil stood deeply troubled by her words, for he had not thought of their relationship in that way, and now the harsh realization dawned on him.

He took a step forward and stood behind her. He lifted his trembling hand to rest upon her shoulder, but he hesitated, and it hovered in mid-air before dropping back to his side.

"And I also neglect your own sorrows and troubles… I am too blind, selfishly focused only on my own problems, while you bear your own with an enduring and uncomplaining heart…" he completed her words mournfully. "Is it not so?"

Tauriel brought her arms about herself and bent her head. "Sometimes".

Tears now trembled in the corners of his eyes. "I failed you..." he whispered in a defeated tone. "You have done so much for me, and I so little. But I never knew I caused you this pain, Tauriel. Why have you not told me ever before?" he asked her in anguish.

"Because I had hoped you would realize it on your own", she replied, desperately trying to make her voice sound even, while she was still facing away from him.

Bereft of words to offer her, for her reply had stung bitterly in his heart, he made to touch her once more, this time allowing his fingertips to lightly caress her shoulder, but she drew away, denying him the physical connection.

Standing for a brief moment with his lips parted in puzzlement, he then recoiled. She had deemed that he did not deserve to touch her right now, and he would respect her decision.

The silence dragged and expanded between them, impregnating the air with stifling feelings, unshed tears and words yet unspoken, making each passing moment heavier and more unbearable than the previous one.

Until Thranduil could take it no more, and he spoke. "What shall it be now? Will we remain so, wordless and turned from each other?" he asked in a low voice, but Tauriel answered not. He waited for a long moment, still as a statue behind her, but she, too, was standing still and motionless. "Will you not even look at me?" he spoke again, wishing to sound detached, but he failed miserably, and only hurt and complaint came through.

With a sigh, she slowly turned her emerald gaze to him, and her eyes were filled with silent tears. Seeing her distress and sensing her inner turmoil, he made to take her in his arms, but once more she stopped him, against the wish of her heart. For she knew she should not yield now, if she wanted her message to be conveyed effectively, or otherwise it would all be lost and forgotten in their flurry of kisses.

"Not all problems are solved with an embrace and a kiss, Thranduil", she murmured bleakly.

He remained to gaze at her deeply. "I know, meleth nin. But it helps alleviate the pain, sometimes. I had forgotten that, until you came in my path and reminded me", he whispered lovingly. "Had it not been for your tender love, I would still be a cruel and heartless King, sulking in my halls and indifferent to the fates of the world", he admitted.

At that a tiny, sad smile curled Tauriel's lips. "You have never truly been heartless, as you say. You had just forgotten what love is, for you felt undeserving of a second chance in love. But that belongs to the past now, and you have come a long way from that. And for that I am proud, you must know", she made a pause here to look at him with compassion, and a small light was lit in the depths of his azure eyes. "But you must try harder, Thranduil. You must learn to trust me, and you must at last accept the fact that there is someone in your life who cares for you deeply. Your mind, of course, knows this, but your heart is still reluctant to perceive the concept of companionship completely. It craves it, but it fears it as well. And while you desperately reach for me, at the same time you pull away", she concluded in a grave tone.

Thranduil sighed, and a single tear ran from his eye. "What you are saying is true, Tauriel. But please, do not think my behavior stems from mistrust towards you, for that is most untrue. I trust you with my heart and my life", he breathed, and her gaze flickered at his words, and she instinctively took a step closer to him. "But I have lived so long in loneliness that it has become my second nature… It is not easy to abandon old habits completely. Ever when I am faced with a problem, my initial and instinctive thought is to keep it to myself. Because I for so long had none to share my problems with…" he sighed.

"But no more. Now you have me. You need not feel alone any longer. Do not be afraid to reach for me, I will not break", she told him fervently.

"Please, Tauriel, my love, bear with me. I can only promise to you that I will try harder, as you ask of me", he told her, and took a step forward, reluctantly extending his hand to touch her, although half expecting a third rebuttal.

She watched his move, and finally allowed him to touch her fingertips, for naught but a fleeting moment. "I shall hold you to your promise".

At that she turned and swiftly walked away, until the shadows swallowed her form.

A vast feeling of bereavement and desertion took over him as soon as he was left alone. How he had longed to hold her in his arms, to rest his head atop hers and let the grief wash away… But he was denied that pleasure, that comfort, and his heart was now cold, lonely and sorrowful.

But Tauriel had been right in what she had said. A kiss and a hug would not solve the problem. He had hurt her, although inadvertently, and she wished him to know it, and not push it into oblivion during a session of passionate lovemaking. He could very well see that now, and he admired her wisdom and strength of character.

What remained for him now was to keep the promise he had given her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It was afternoon when Thranduil decided to leave his chambers and take a lonely stroll around Caras Galadhon. Iaurvir had offered to accompany him, so that they would be able to discuss the outcome of the morning meeting, but the Elvenking had declined. He wished not for company, but for peace and solitude.

True enough, the meeting with Celeborn was not a trying one. In a few hours' time they had managed to agree on a military alliance against Dol Guldur, and they had also discussed the details of the campaign and the size of the force Lothlorien would send. Only the necessary paperwork now remained to be redacted, and this was estimated to be ready in a couple of days.

Consequently, no thoughts of the negotiations troubled Thranduil, for everything had gone as smoothly as he had expected. But his mind was preoccupied with memories of the previous night and his conversation with Tauriel, which had proved quite enlightening for him, albeit somewhat unsettling and disconcerting. The more he thought about her words, the more he feared the possibility of their relationship not having been established on deep and steady foundations. He worried that he did not love her the way she deserved, and that he would fail her yet again, although he had promised her to try harder. It pained him profoundly to know he had hurt her, even though inadvertently, and to have not realized it on his own. Tauriel had been patient and persevering, standing by his side, investing her whole self in his own troubles and guiding him through them, and all he managed to give her in return were some fleeting moments of carnal satisfaction, and words of love and adoration. But what did words mean? Nothing. What deeds had he actually to offer to bear testimony to his love and care? To his dismay, there was no positive answer to be given to this question. He had failed to comfort her when she had disagreed with Tinuven after the dinner in Erebor, and he had remembered to ask her about the incident only too late. And when he witnessed them speaking in the gardens in Mirkwood, it was only jealousy that came through in his manner, and he had failed to ask her about the content of their conversation, thus not eliminating the possibility of it having been troubling or unpleasant. He had only allowed lust and desire to cloud his mind and descend like mist on his thoughts, obscuring all reason and delivering his senses and his energy, both physical and spiritual, unto the throes of passion. All other thoughts had been forgotten afterwards, and he never asked her again whether Tinuven was behaving respectfully towards her or if he continued to cause her distress. And only now did he realize the wisdom of her choice not to indulge in physical contact, for the outcome afterwards would most likely be the same, with the gravity of the issue lessened and all thoughts and promises pushed in the dark corners of his mind. For lovemaking did possess this extraordinary quality of healing and alleviating spiritual pain, but in truth, it solved no problems, which remained hidden, just like festering wounds are concealed beneath fanciful dress.

Needless to say, these last weeks had been strenuous and very demanding for Thranduil, as they were laden with consecutive trials, and his mind was predominantly preoccupied with the negotiations, and not his personal affairs. But he hated to find excuses for his conduct, especially when it came to Tauriel. To blazes with the dwarves and their blasted pledge of allegiance, if it meant that his beloved was being neglected and treated unfairly by him. How many more times had he to sacrifice his own self, his own heart for the greater good? A bitter taste came on his tongue, as this insoluble query swirled in his mind, for he was King, and he was doomed to ignore his personal needs and demands in the face of the welfare of his kingdom, which should always be his first priority.

And he had managed to do so quite well over the millennia, ever since he inherited Oropher's heavy crown. He was known as a just ruler, who kept his realm in peace and under law and order, despite his lack of an elven ring, and the constant presence and threat of Dol Guldur in southern Mirkwood. It was ironic, truly, that he had been dealt the hardest position to rule and defend against the Shadow, and was provided with the poorest means to do so.

He knew the other elf lords – and ladies, for that matter – looked down on him, perhaps not openly or with true contempt and disdain, but the thought was certainly inside their heads that he (and his father before him) had been considered unworthy of Celebrimbor's rings, which had passed on to Galadriel and Gil-Galad, and after his death to Elrond and Cirdan, who in turn had gifted his ring to Mithrandir. Now to Thranduil's eyes these elves moved with an air of arrogance and superiority about them that stemmed from their possession of the rings or their Noldorin ancestry. He could boast neither, and although he would have much desired a ring like Vilya or Nenya to wield, he had never wished for Noldorin blood to flow in his veins. For he was there and had witnessed the carnage in Doriath, when the sons of Feanor came to fulfil their oath, and ever since he had hated the Noldor with a passion.

" _You are mistaken in your persuasions, Thranduil…"_

Startled, he stopped in his steps. Galadriel had spoken inside his head, but he did not remember having invited her to do so. His face grew grim and darker still, and his brow furrowed.

" _I did not call for company, my Lady",_ he responded to her in thought, knowing that she would perceive it.

" _Calm your anger, for it is needless; I wish not to harm you. But there is so much grief and hatred inside your heart, oh Elvenking, and it darkens and poisons your present…"_ Her voice was compassionate, lyrical and melodious, and Thranduil found his wrath slowly subsiding and seeping away.

" _My hatred is just, for terrible things have been done unto me and my kin, and my grief shall not diminish with the passing of the years",_ he spoke back to her, but there was mainly sorrow in his thoughts now.

" _Come and find me in my gardens… It is time we put the grievances of the past to rest, for the future calls, and we shall have to heed this call…"_

Closing his eyes momentarily and taking a deep breath, Thranduil hesitated for a while, but then he decided to accept Galadriel's invitation, and he made for the gardens of Lothlorien.

* * *

While the gentle afternoon was waning and evening was preparing to succeed it, painting the darkening sky with the warm colors of dusk, Tauriel stood from the company of Meduithel and Iaurvir. She told them she would like to visit the training grounds of the Golden Wood, now that the practice of the day was ending, and she would have the chance to speak with the marchwardens, elves that were more like her in their way of life, for she was curious to discover the similarities and differences between the Mirkwood guards and their kin here.

Of course, the councilors had no reason to question or doubt her motives, for they were sincere, at least for the largest part. But in truth, Tauriel had begun feeling weary and bored with lord Iaurvir's talk, which focused mostly on the morning meeting and the negotiations. She needed to get on her feet, to walk and be active, and she also sought something to preoccupy her mind with, so as to deter her thoughts from constantly returning to Thranduil and their yesternight conversation upon the talan.

She was certain she had done the right thing. If Thranduil was unable to see on his own things for what they really were, she had to tell him herself. She had only hoped he truly understood her pain and complaint, for it was just and not without reason. But it was not easy to speak to him of it, knowing how difficult and challenging the past days had been for him, as he was burdened with the fulfillment of high expectations and the responsibility to see his plans through. The last thing she wished for was to burden him further, and she truly had not planned to speak to him of what troubled her, at least not before the negotiations were ended and they were back in Mirkwood. But the opportunity had arisen on its own, and she could not let it slip by. Still, it hurt her like a stabbing knife to see his face grow sorrowful and remorseful yet again, for she knew his stance was not intentional but habitual. And it was true that he had come a long way from the person he once was, but she had asked him to try harder still. He had to try harder for their relationship.

And while she held no doubt about choosing to talk to him, she did, however, had concerns about the specific time it had to happen. Had it been a mistake to fill his mind and heart with more worries and sorrows now, in the face of war? Should she have kept her thoughts to herself and waited for until later? Or would it only have been worse then, and the problem itself would have grown? Tauriel could not answer these questions with certainty. And there really was no point in seeking an answer, for what had happened, had indeed happened, and asking hypothetical questions was pointless. She should rather focus on the present, await Thranduil's reaction, and watch the fulfillment of the promise he had given her.

Still, it disturbed her deeply that she had had to deny him the comfort of her embrace. She hated the way they had had to part last night, with but the faintest touch, and gazing into the bottomless wells of sadness that his eyes had been. But she knew her choice had been right. Thranduil had to learn that her touch and presence was not a given in his life, and that he would constantly have to fight for her and their love. She only hoped he was ready to do this, and that she had not begun stretching things too far. For his frame of mind was fragile and darkened and easily disrupted; he was in some aspects unlike the other elves, whose _fear_ were pure and unharmed. Thranduil was a broken ellon, and he had suffered immense grief, and above all he bore the eternal mark of Morgoth.

Sometimes, when reveling in the bliss of their private moments, she would forget that. She would look into his luminous eyes, and touch his glowing skin, and there she could find no trace of Morgoth's malice and taint. His past would then seem like a nightmare only, old and forgotten and unreal. The Serpents of the North would have only existed in a scary fairy tale for elflings, and that battle would have never truly taken place. But this was a deception, which she easily let fool her, and then her demands of him would grow, and she would treat him like an intact and unscathed being. Had she perhaps fallen victim to that same deception now, after seeing him so strong and effective during the negotiations in Dale and Erebor?

With a sigh, she allowed these troubling thoughts to linger and nestle in her heart, as she at last entered the training grounds of Lothlorien. The new surroundings served to distract her mind somewhat. Numerous elves were around, gathering now their swords and bows and daggers, and ridding themselves of the protective leather armor. Tauriel stood and gazed around, comparing mentally the sight she saw here with her familiar one from her home. There were training dummies and archery targets, quite similar to the ones she would train on. But the bows of the Galadhrim looked larger and sturdier than the Mirkwood ones, though rather heavier. She smiled inwardly, thinking that Legolas would have liked these beautiful and strong bows, which were bound to have a farther reach.

As she was about to make for the archery ground and speak with the elves there, a familiar voice called to her and attracted her attention.

"Lady Tauriel?"

She turned around to see Elhedril approaching her with a small smile and a quick stride, and holding a bow and a dagger in hand. Instantly, a smile curled Tauriel's lips as well.

"Hello, Elhedril. I see your training is at an end…" she greeted her.

"Indeed, we have just finished. What brings you here, may I ask?" the honey-eyed elleth inquired.

The Captain resumed a relaxed position, resting her weight on one leg. "Curiosity mostly, I would say. I wished to see your training grounds and your training habits. You see, I am quite like you. I am a guard in my home, and such things", she said and waved her hand vaguely around, "are my life, really, and interest me greatly".

"Oh, of course, I should have guessed that. King Thranduil did introduce you as a Captain in the Woodland Realm's Guard, when we met with you in the woods", Elhedril recalled, and she proceeded to sheath her dagger. "It must be nice to be a Captain…" she mused.

Tauriel laughed. "It is full of responsibilities. Not as much fun as you might think", she responded mirthfully, now glad for Elhedril's unexpected appearance.

The guard lifted an eyebrow. "You are probably right. I can tell that from seeing my cousin, and what he has to do every day…"

"Your cousin?"

"Haldir. He is a Captain, and also the chief of their rank. In fact, he was the one who prompted me to join the marchwardens, seeing that I had no taste for knitting or sewing or even scholarly activities", Elhedril said.

"I can understand that… I had no love for such things either", Tauriel agreed.

The other elleth nodded. "Well, I would invite you to a brief archery contest, but I fear I cannot do so, seeing that the light of the day is almost gone now. Would you like to take a walk instead? I can show you around our city", she kindly offered.

"I would love that, thank you… But are you not on duty tonight?" the Captain wondered.

"No, I am free to do as I please!" she chimed happily.

Tauriel smiled brightly. "Let us be off then!"

The two guards followed a western direction, walking on softly illuminated paths, while the fragrant breeze blew in their faces and revived their senses.

"Where are we headed?" Tauriel inquired.

"To the western pavilion. Musicians gather there every evening, and we sing and dance and drink. It is beautiful, you shall see", Elhedril replied with a smile.

Soon enough, the road ahead of them opened into a large flat area, in which a circular pavilion was built. It was spacious, and a small fountain was in the center of it. Thin ornate columns around its circumference supported the dome, and ivy curled about them, expanding over to the roof and decorating it. Quite a few Lorien elves were already there, and the minstrels had taken their places in one corner, and had begun playing their lutes and flutes and harps, and singing tunes of joy and nature's renewal. On the other side stood some tables, covered with white cloth and bearing various delicacies and drinks. The elves present had already begun indulging themselves in those tasty treats.

"Well, what do you think? Is it not wonderful?" Elhedril asked Tauriel as she passed her a glass of wine, which she had fetched from a nearby table.

"It is indeed. I would think there is a feast going on", she replied in a dreamy voice, as she let her gaze wander around leisurely, feeling peace at last settle inside her.

"Here in Lorien every day is a feast", the marchwarden responded, and sipped from her wine.

"I wish I could say the same for my home…" Tauriel sighed. "Alas, for us feasts are rare, for we live under the Shadow and the evil that pours forth from Dol Guldur… We are not safe, not even in our halls…"

"My heart weeps to know of this. Be steady and courageous, for the evil shall not last forever", Elhedril spoke to her, trying to sound encouraging.

Tauriel gave her a sad smile. "Our lot has been to live in these dark times, and fight for our freedom… and fight we shall", she said with determination, and then turned her eyes to the musicians. "But let us not darken our moods now. I much wish to enjoy this respite, and I would rather discuss pleasant subjects".

"Yes, you are right", the other elleth agreed. "Do you sing, perchance?"

"I would not call myself a singer, although my voice is not entirely terrible", Tauriel said and chuckled softly. "How about yourself?"

Elhedril smiled and her eyes shone. "I do. Maybe I will join the minstrels later, and you can listen".

The Captain nodded. "An interesting talent, for one who has devoted her life to guarding her land".

"Well, if I had not chosen this path, I would have probably become a musician", Elhedril responded.

Tauriel smiled warmly, and then remained silent for a little while, while both ellith turned their attention to the music and the elves that had started dancing under the flowing and melodious rhythms. Most of them danced in couples, lightly touching their hands and swiftly moving around each other, like the whispering wind, circling each other, and passing side by side, ever allowing the faintest of contact, but never lingering.

At that moment Elhedril turned to Tauriel and spoke in a low voice. "Most of these elves are couples, married, betrothed, or promised to each other. Many of these are my friends".

"I had suspected so…" Tauriel murmured, and then turned to Elhedril with sparkling eyes, suddenly remembering her promise to Tinuven. "How about yourself, my friend? Have you found an ellon to love, if it is not too bold to ask?"

Elhedril's lips parted slightly and she lowered her gaze, hesitating to answer. Tauriel saw her discomfort, and sought to apologize. "Forgive me… I did not mean to sound curious or intrusive".

"No, it is alright. It is just that…", the blond elleth began and took a deep breath. "It seems I am not so lucky in this field", she said despondently.

Tauriel's brow furrowed in concern. "What do you mean? You are a beautiful and spirited young elleth; it cannot be that you have not won the affections of not one, but quite a few ellyn…"

Elhedril turned to look at her, and lowered her voice as she replied. "I would be a liar to deny this, but none of them has managed to capture my heart… For there is someone else I like, but he is ever distant, and far away… and stationed so far above me. I would never presume to look upon him."

The Captain's interest was now very much picked, and she felt alert. Could it be that she was speaking of Tinuven, and those two had been for long secretly in love with each other, and they were simply such fools, refraining from revealing their hearts for fear of rejection?

"May I ask who that ellon is?" she asked carefully.

Elhedril looked into Tauriel's eyes, and hers were like burning embers. "You may very well know him already, for he is one of your assemblage".

Tauriel's impulsive reaction was to gasp, for the pieces of the puzzle were slowly but steadily fitting together. "Three ellyn are there, my King, lord Iaurvir, and Commander Tinuven. I would not assume you mean the King, and neither the councilor, for he is married… So, it is only reasonable you speak of the Commander!" she exclaimed, barely able to contain her excitement at this unexpectedly fortunate turn of events.

Elhedril nodded meekly. "Yes, Tauriel. It is him I speak of".

A wide smile rose on the Captain's lips. "Raise your glass, and drink with me now Elhedril, for what I am going to tell you shall please you immensely", she invited her with a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes.

The guard did as she was told, and her own eyes were now lit with a light of curiosity and anticipation. "Please speak quickly, for I am not one known for her patience!"

Tauriel laughed. "I will entrust you this secret to do with as you please. Well, I happen to know that the Commander is fond of you… quite fond of you indeed".

It was now Elhedril's turn to gasp. "Is that… is that true? I would never imagine, I would never assume…" she stuttered.

"And neither would he. Do you know that you are the main reason for his frequent visits to Lorien, and not his sister? But he is devastated that you would never look upon him, and he has given up hope that you might one day share his feelings", Tauriel told her.

"How do you know all this?"

"Lord Tinuven and I happen to have become friends lately, so what I tell you is the truth and not mere speculations", Tauriel answered.

"Oh, Tauriel, I am suddenly so overwhelmed with this news, that I know not how to respond, what to do…!"

"What you need to do is actually quite simple. Seek him out, and talk to him. The rest will fall into place on their own, for this is what happens when two hearts sing for each other in earnest", she replied in a gentle tone, and her thoughts drifted once more to the love of her own heart.

Elhedril proceeded to thank her whole-heartedly and call her a dear friend, but Tauriel's attention was not on the young marchwarden anymore. She turned her gaze to the dancers and pretended to be watching them, but in truth she ached to see Thranduil, to know that he was alright, and not surrendered to the depths of grief of his heart.

Still, she was not allowed to remain lost in her thoughts for long, for Haldir came to the pavilion; his keen eyes immediately spotted his cousin alongside Tauriel, and he made towards them.

"Greetings, my ladies", he began politely.

"Oh, Haldir! I knew not you were not on duty tonight!" Elhedril said happily.

"My lord Haldir", Tauriel acknowledged his presence with a soft smile.

"I seem to be free to enjoy this evening, just like yourselves", he responded, his eyes trained now on Tauriel. "Are you ladies having a good time?"

"Indeed. I find the feast fascinating. It is a welcome change for an elf of the Woodland Realm", said Tauriel, not failing to notice his piercing gaze upon her.

"I thought it would be nice to bring Tauriel here", said Elhedril. "And it is good fortune you showed up, for you can keep her company now, cousin, while I can go and join the minstrels".

"Ah, yes, I nearly forgot you love to sing! Go then, and I will make sure lady Tauriel is not unpleasantly distracted by your attempts to sing these high notes!" he told his cousin in good-natured jest and laughed.

Elhedril laughed as well. "You always make fun of me!"

"It is my duty, my lady", he said in mock seriousness, and bowed.

Both of them then laughed again heartily, and Tauriel watched them with a warm smile on her face. She already liked Elhedril, and now she found she liked Haldir as well, for he seemed clever and spirited.

The young marchwarden then left their company to do as she intended, and Haldir turned his attention to Tauriel again.

"My cousin is young, and has not seen much of the world; she has not known its grief and darkness. If only she forever stayed joyous and innocent in her ways…" he sighed.

"You care for her deeply", she observed.

"I do. I took her under my wing as soon as she joined the marchwardens, promising to her parents I will always watch over her".

"She told me it had been your idea…"

"Joining us? Yes. Can you imagine her sitting for hours in a chair with needlework in her hands?" he asked, and Tauriel shook her head in negation. "Well, neither could I!"

He then laughed, and Tauriel smiled fondly, for his laughter was sincere and lifted her spirits. But as his laughter faded, he locked his eyes with hers, and in them Tauriel saw something that was not there before. He fell silent, and kept gazing at her.

"My lord?" she spoke nervously.

"I would rather we forwent these titles… They are fit for royalty and pompous council members, but not for us warriors", he said in a deep tone.

"Captain, then".

"I would prefer simply Haldir", he told her warmly, fully now turned towards her, and took a small step closer to her.

Tauriel's heart began beating faster. _Is he flirting with me?_ She wondered in bewilderment. "I have only just met you… I am not sure I can jump to this level of informality so easily", she countered his suggestion.

"Why not? I already feel at ease with you", he insisted. "Since the moment I saw you, you have caught my attention, Tauriel. I cannot deny what is truth", he told her frankly.

Her breath became shallow and quick as she was beset with unease, and she turned from him a bit. She did not show him her back, not wishing to seem rude to her host, but only her profile was now visible to him.

"I know not what you mean", she uttered.

"I think you do…" Haldir said and lightly touched her shoulder. His hand upon it was warm, and although she was not appalled by it, it was not a welcome feeling either. Her mind instantly flew to Thranduil, and the way his caress felt, and courage suddenly flooded her heart.

"I am afraid I cannot return your affections, my lord. My heart belongs to another", she declared, turning now to fully face him.

"Oh…"

Haldir's hand dropped to his side, as a wave of disappointment washed over him. But then he quickly recomposed himself and cleared his throat. "Of course. A beautiful elleth such as yourself is bound to have many admirers. A very fortunate ellon he must be, the one your heart has chosen. Forgive my forwardness, please", he said politely and bowed his head a little before her.

Tauriel smiled, relieved by how well he had received her words. "There is nothing to forgive, mellon nin".

He forced a smile, and nodded. Not wishing to press the matter further, he averted his gaze and directed it to the minstrels. "Perhaps you would do me the small favor of dancing with me, then?"

"Yes, I believe I can do that…" she replied, and her smile widened.

Returning her smile, he offered his hand to lead her to where the other elves danced, and she took it.

* * *

Thranduil was at this very moment entering the garden of Galadriel. The road he remembered well, for he had been there before. He walked through an arched gate, and was immediately greeted by the sound of running waters. Some stairs he descended, which were carved in the rock, and he followed the main path that led to the center of the garden.

There stood Galadriel, clad wholly in white, and she turned to face him as soon as he appeared. She lowered her hood and a graceful smile lit her features. Thranduil came before her with apprehension in his heart, and a grim expression was on his face.

"You are come, at last", she spoke gently.

"I came, as you asked me to", he responded gravely, glancing up at her.

The Lady took a few steps towards him. "I know the thoughts that trouble your mind and render you sleepless… I know the burdens of your heart and the causes of your sorrow. I also know that you wished to speak to me, but hesitated. Why?" she enquired, her bright blue eyes now peering deep into his.

He took a deep breath, and decided to face her and his doubts once and for all. "I hesitated because the last time we met was not a pleasant one, and I did not leave here on good terms".

Galadriel's face grew more solemn, but still remained sweet. "I remember well our last meeting. And it grieves me deeply, even to this day, that the answers you found were terrible. Were I able to change things, I would have done it", she spoke compassionately, and walked to him closer still.

Thranduil stood motionless like a statue, although a turmoil had begun inside him.

"But it also grieves me that you are angry with me, Thranduil", she went on, and her gaze was now piercing. He could not bear it, and averted his eyes.

"I know my fury is unjust…" he admitted with a small sigh, striving to maintain his composure. "And I came into your woods with the desire to ask for your forgiveness", he told her with a furrowed brow and a hoarse voice, still not daring to lift his eyes to hers.

Galadriel stood right in front of him, and she was almost as tall as he was. Softly she touched his chin, and prompted him to turn his face and look at her, which he reluctantly did.

"How could I ever be angry and spiteful towards a broken heart?" she whispered. "Do you think I know not how much you loved Lothrin, and how dearly her loss cost you?"

At that Thranduil felt a lump forming in his throat and threatening to choke him, as tears arose in his eyes. "Countless times I have wished I had died and she had lived… Countless times I have wished you had appeared a moment sooner, and saved her from the dragon's fire…" he muttered bitterly, pressing his eyes shut, as if he could thus prevent the tears, which were now defiantly running on his cheeks. "This is why I bore a grudge against you. I cared not that I had been saved, that I had lived. For what life was there for me, when Lothrin was gone from it forever? My heart was ripped from my chest and burned to ashes… And I hated you for condemning me to live my life alone and scarred, and without her", he confessed, and turned to the side, concealing his distress and pain from her sight.

"And yet there is life for you, and there is love in it", Galadriel said softly, and patiently waited for him to process the meaning of her words.

He turned and glanced at her from over his shoulder, and his lips slightly parted, allowing a small gasp to escape.

"You were not meant to die, Thranduil. There was still much for you to do, and there still is", she spoke again.

"But so was Lothrin", he countered in a broken voice.

Galadriel shook her golden head. "Many who have died did not deserve to, and many who perhaps deserved death, live. Do not seek justice in these matters, for you shall find none. But you must acknowledge the gifts you have been presented with, and cherish them for what they are. Do not look upon your second chance in life with scorn and contempt, for it is an insult to the Valar. Do not let your memories of the past, no matter how bitter and painful they might be, poison your present", she advised him.

Thranduil now turned to face her with rising ire. "Wise words easily spoken by a wise person, who lives in a golden kingdom, keeping at bay all evil with her ring of power", he scoffed, throwing his head back and narrowing his eyes.

But Galadriel's demeanor was not affected by his aggressiveness, for she had anticipated his reaction. "The rings of power are a heavy burden to bear, and their wielders must do so with great responsibility, and great humility", she told him in a sterner tone, and Thranduil huffed. "I know what you are thinking. You believe you were deemed unworthy, when Celebrimbor sent out the rings for safekeeping. You even believe they were meant only for the Noldor to wield, and your hatred for my kindred is an unquenchable flame. But not all Noldor took the vow of Feanor, and not all of them followed his sons when their wrath descended upon Doriath. Celebrimbor was one such Noldo. And you know already where my allegiance lies, for I have lived in Doriath for a time, as you remember, and it is where I met Celeborn. I had always held King Thingol in great esteem, even though our relationship suffered a strain for a time", she narrated.

Thranduil lifted his hand. "You need not recount the events of the past, my lady, for I was there and I remember".

"Then you know I do not look down on the Sindar, for I share your Telerin ancestry through my mother, and I have also chosen a Sinda as my husband". Before the Elvenking had a chance to speak a word, she went on. "I am telling you this, because I wish you to understand your father's House was not excluded for reasons of lineage and heritage. Simply enough, Celebrimbor sent the rings to where he believed they would be best kept hidden and safe, while he prepared for war. Lindon and Lorien happened to be the most suitable places at the time", she explained.

Thranduil's lips were drawn into a thin line, and he averted his gaze; however, his anger had dissipated and he was now pacified, and Galadriel perceived this.

"We have little cause for animosity and much for unity in these dark days, Thranduil. Do you not so proclaim yourself, when you seek the allegiance of your neighbors?" she asked him pointedly.

He nodded. "It is so".

Galadriel smiled. "It is time you set aside your old grudges, for you have achieved something great, something very important, which might determine the course of the coming war; you have united the whole North against the Shadow".

He raised his gaze and his face was lit with a light of hope at her words.

"The credit for this feat belongs to you", she continued. "Do not diminish its gleam and appeal by submitting yourself to petty thoughts and demeaning acts".

"You speak wisely as ever, Galadriel. But there is always the touch of Morgoth's malice in my _fea,_ and I cannot escape from its hold. I must constantly fight back the dark tendencies, lest they be awakened and take over me", he responded thoughtfully.

"This is true. And you must know that you are deeply admired by those who know what has befallen you".

"I need neither admiration nor pity", he interrupted her. "Tell me, oh wise lady, can my _fea_ ever be completely healed? Is there a way to be rid of the stain of evil?" he asked her anxiously.

Galadriel's smile faded, and she lowered her gaze, turning from him and taking a few steps away. "I know of no such way, and if there is one, then this secret has not been revealed to me", she spoke gravely.

Thranduil sighed and looked away, trying to steel himself, to stand upright and bear the news with stoic patience and unwavering endurance, as he had always done.

"You are not alone in your struggles anymore, Thranduil", Galadriel spoke soothingly. "You have Tauriel now… And I know what she means to you, and how much you love her. I have looked into your heart, and it is true and faithful".

Hearing of Tauriel's name and their love brought tears to him, and he kept staring ahead with glassy eyes, swallowing back a sob.

"Turn your gaze from the disheartening darkness inside you, and look at the bright light of hope by your side instead", she advised him. "You cannot change what happened; none of us can. But you can shape your future however you wish. It is yours to decide whether it shall be filled with darkness or with light".

At that she turned and made to leave, but Thranduil called to her. "Lady Galadriel".

She glanced at him from over her shoulder, and a playful light was in her eyes, and a bright smile upon her lips. _"Your apology is accepted; you need not speak a word, for I know your thoughts, and I also know they are sincere. You have chosen wisely to resolve all your issues of the past, even if it has been difficult for you to face them. But the past must be laid to rest at last. Linger not upon it anymore"._

These had been the Lady's last words before she walked away, leaving Thranduil to whisper his thanks in an inaudible voice. But Galadriel knew well of his remorse and his gratitude, and she needed not hear them being spoken aloud.

He lingered in the garden for a short time after her departure, contemplating her words. When at last he made to leave, his heart felt lighter, and his thoughts had cleared.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The official alliance and the agreement of Lothlorien and Mirkwood to march against Dol Guldur together was celebrated with a feast under the golden trees. It was a warm and pleasant night, and the spirits of all the elves were lifted. Round tables dressed with white silken cloth had been set for the Lord and Lady and their guests, as well as for the rest of the elves. The food was plenty and delicious, the wine flowed freely, and there was song and dance and merriment.

Thranduil was seated next to lord Celeborn, and they quietly conversed about the campaign throughout most of the evening. Galadriel was content to leave the strategics to her husband, for such mundane details were not of her interest. Her role as a member of the White Council was far more important, for it was there that the fates of Middle Earth were decided, and an allegiance of the North had since long been proposed by Gandalf. Now at last it came to pass, and, surprisingly enough, its initiator happened to be Thranduil, the once isolationist and mistrustful king of the Woodland Realm. His change of manner was obvious, and Galadriel was deeply pleased by that, for she had long feared he might prove the thorny part of this alliance. But fate had deemed it otherwise, and he was now its most fervent supporter.

The Lady's deep gaze then fell to Tauriel, that seemingly unimportant elleth that had captured the long-frozen heart of the Elvenking. She discreetly observed her for a while. Quite comely in appearance she was, with her reddish curls, striking green eyes, high cheekbones and rosy lips. She was lacking perhaps the nobility and grace of Lothrin, but definitely excelling in spirit and determination. She certainly was a fine specimen of her woodland kin.

" _Seek me out in my garden later, when the feast will have begun to wane, for I much desire to speak with you, Tauriel",_ she whispered into her mind.

Unprepared and not used to the Lady's intrusive thoughts as she was, Tauriel gasped and turned her eyes at once to Galadriel, who only kept smiling cryptically. The younger elf managed to nod weakly, and then the Lady averted her captivating gaze.

Thranduil was the only one to notice her sudden reaction of alarm, for, although he was still talking with Celeborn, in truth he had been secretly watching Tauriel. They had not shared any private time since their unhappy parting two nights ago, and he felt troubled and discontented to be separated from her. But he did not know whether she wished to speak to him or rather have him spend some time on his own and contemplate her words and her request. That is why he was reluctant, and kept to his own, limiting himself to only observing her from afar.

But at one point she turned her eyes and looked directly into his, before he had the chance to tear them off of her. Her gaze was deep and loving, and he could only answer with his own of longing and devotion. The contact did not last long, only for a mere moment, before Tauriel looked away, pretending to suddenly be very interested in her salad. With an inward sigh, the Elvenking returned his attention to Celeborn and his proposals considering ground inspection and exploitation and battle formations.

But what of the rest of the Mirkwood elves? The councilors Iaurvir and Meduithel were wrapped up in a private conversation, while Tinuven ate his food and drank his wine in silence, and seemingly deep in thought. Having nothing better to do at the moment, Tauriel decided to start a chat with him.

"My lord Tinuven, you seem awfully silent", she observed in a polite tone. "Is something amiss?"

"No, not at all. But my thoughts are just… elsewhere", he responded without lifting his eyes from his cup.

A small smile lit Tauriel's face. "Elhedril, if I may guess?"

His brows shot up in surprise. "How do you…" he began, but stopped as realization dawned on him. "You have spoken to her!"

"Indeed. I did as I promised. And I guess she has in turn spoken to you, since you now know her name", she told him in a good-natured manner of tease.

"Yes…" he muttered. "You have kept your end of the bargain, and for what you did I am deeply grateful. I promise I shall keep mine, for you have earned my respect", he said with a tiny bow of his head.

"My mission was not really that difficult, since fortune aided us. It appears that you two had feelings for each other, but both were far too reserved and cautious to take the first step. In the end, all you needed was a small push", she commented and chuckled.

Tinuven turned red for a moment at her bold words, but could not help laughing afterwards. "Well, it is as you say, Captain", he admitted mirthfully.

"I can see her sitting at that table over there, beside the great tree. Why do you not go to her and ask her to dance?" Tauriel suggested.

Tinuven turned and glimpsed towards Elhedril's direction from over his shoulder. The elleth had her eyes trained on him, and smiled at him fondly when he looked at her. Encouraged, the Commander turned to Tauriel with a smile and stood from his seat. "I shall heed your advice and do as you said".

He then turned to his hosts and his King and excused himself, bowing his exit.

Tauriel was pleased that she had helped a fine ellon fulfil the desire of his heart. Tinuven and Elhedril's love also reminded her that love itself was not rare, and that everyone, no matter how noble or lowly, deserved to be loved beyond all boundaries and reason. With a sigh of content, she leaned back in her chair and took her cup of wine in her hand, sipping from it slowly and allowing her thoughts to freely drift to any direction they would. A feeling of peace was now upon her, for she was in a beautiful place that vibrated with magic and life, and the silver stars were shining overhead. Her beloved was right there, seated opposite her, strong and determined in his cause and devoted in his love for her, and what minor issues might arise between them, she was now certain they would overcome them. Elves she had now come to call her friends were close to her, and ready to aid her if she so needed. She had even managed to make a new friend here in Lothlorien, and also turn Tinuven from an enemy into a friend. And their plans had worked out well so far; Dale, Erebor and Lorien had pledged their allegiance, and Rivendell's joining was only a formal matter and nothing more. Decidedly, she was now feeling happy. Was this not the essence of happiness, after all? If she asked for more, she would have to be called greedy and an ingrate.

Without realizing how or when, she glanced at her cup only to find its emptiness staring back at her. Smiling to herself, she leaned forward and made to grasp the jug of wine. But her fingers were met with Thranduil's, for he had read her move and acted faster. His hand radiated an inviting warmth beneath hers, and she felt a searing pang of longing in her heart; how much she wished to hold this hand right now and bring it to her lips! Thranduil's eyes met hers once more this night over the point of their grazing fingers, and they were two pools of liquid fire that burned for her only. Halted by the laws of propriety, she slowly withdrew her hand and lowered her face timidly. "Thank you, my lord", she whispered in a quiet, honeyed voice, and watched as he refilled her cup. He only nodded with the faintest of smiles as he offered her the fresh wine, but his gaze spoke what his lips were not allowed to.

Their quiet moment was disrupted by the return of Tinuven, but this time Elhedril was by his side.

"My Lord and Lady… my King", he started. "With your permission, I would like to invite the lady Elhedril to join our table for the rest of the feast", he said with a measure of nervousness.

Thranduil raised a think eyebrow in surprise and amusement, while Galadriel smiled warmly and Celeborn simply nodded in mild indifference.

"You have the permission, lord Commander", the Lady spoke on behalf of the rest.

Tinuven bowed and thanked her, and then proceeded to offer Elhedril a seat between Tauriel and himself. The young guard sat down and looked around uneasily, for she was not used to being in the company of royalty, and it was apparent in her demeanor. Tauriel looked at her friend and saw her own self reflected on her, for it was not so long ago, when she, too, was in the same position, and felt deeply uncomfortable in the presence of the King and his associates.

"Hello, Elhedril", she greeted her warmly and then offered her a cup of wine.

Being close to Tauriel made the young elleth feel somewhat more secure, and she tried to shake off the anxiety.

"Thank you", she whispered to her, and she truly meant it.

Tauriel nodded, and then turned her attention to the dancers, thus allowing Tinuven and Elhedril the space for a more private conversation, if they so willed.

But Thranduil was not so subtle in his manner, when he called to his Commander. "Well then, Tinuven, at last you decided to try your luck".

His tone was bold and teasing, and he felt he had the authority and the right to speak so. Was he not the King, after all? And he had already had a few cups of wine.

The Commander's eyes opened wide and his voice was caught in his throat, while the elleth beside him blushed profoundly.

"Well done", the Elvenking went on and raised his cup in their honor. "A King is pleased to see his subjects find happiness", he added in a lower and more mellow tone, and then drank from his wine.

"Thank you, my lord. Your loyal subjects wish the same for you", Tinuven answered, daring a rather brazen suggestion, seeing that his King was in a fine mood.

At the hearing of his words Thranduil stopped in the midst of his drinking, his brow slightly furrowing, while he still held the cup to his lips. But his momentary ire faded, and a smile took its place as he resumed drinking.

"Perhaps", he muttered to himself, and although his small smile did not disappear, he kept his eyes low and thoughtful.

* * *

The feast went on in this cheerful manner for hours on end, until the participating elves began tiring and dispersing. It was then that Galadriel rose from her seat and announced to the others her retirement for the night. This was the cue for Tauriel to meet her in the gardens, as she had earlier requested.

Following her example, a while later the Captain did the same and left the celebration, much to Thranduil's wonder and disappointment, who watched her retreat into the shadows. He had no idea why she had wished to leave the feast when everything was going on so smoothly and pleasantly, and he feared she might be feeling unwell or otherwise disturbed by something. He wished to follow her and ask her the reason for her retreat, but his position forbade him to do so, and he inwardly cursed his kingship at that moment.

But of course Thranduil's fears and speculations were all needless and groundless.

Tauriel moved swiftly and soon found herself inside the garden of Galadriel. The Lady stood beside a fountain, and lightly ran her elegant fingers on the surface of the water, disrupting its natural flow.

"My lady", Tauriel spoke softly.

"Welcome to my garden, Tauriel. This is my favorite place in all the realm", Galadriel told her and turned to face her.

As she moved, the Captain noticed there was a tall, metallic pitcher standing on the fountain's ledge. But she soon returned her eyes to the Lady.

"It is a beautiful place… so peaceful. But then all of Lorien is so. My eyes have never beheld a more marvelous sight, my lady", Tauriel spoke in a reverent tone.

"You are young, and your eyes have beheld so little. I have seen the light of the Two Trees, and everything else pales in comparison…" Galadriel mused, and for a brief while her gaze seemed unfocused and distant.

Tauriel remained silent, not wishing to disrupt her thoughts. She felt awed in her presence, powerless and insignificant. What would a high elf like her possible have to say to a lowly Silvan elf like herself?

But Galadriel had read her thoughts, and looked at her with kindness. "Everyone has a part to play in the coming war. And I speak not only of the campaign against Dol Guldur, but of the united efforts of the free peoples against the rising Shadow. Sauron has revealed himself, and it will not be long before he seeks to bring this world under his dominion. A path awaits you, Tauriel. The question is, are you ready to walk upon it?" she asked pointedly and her eyes bore hard into hers.

Tauriel gasped. "I will do my duty… Whether I succeed or fail, I know not", she whispered gravely.

"You have chosen to stand as a Queen beside a King", Galadriel remarked, and Tauriel's eyes shot up to hers. "I know of your love, and it is deep and true". A faint smile curled the Captain's lips now. "But will it endure the coming trials?" she asked, not expecting an answer, and then turned and took the pitcher in her hand, proceeding to fill it with water.

She then paced towards her, and with an indecipherable expression upon her face she looked towards a small altar. "Will you look into the mirror?"

Tauriel approached the circular construct, and her breath was caught in her throat. "I have heard of your magical mirror, my lady. But what will I see if I look?" she asked with trepidation.

"Not even the wisest can tell", Galadriel said as she began pouring water into the shallow marble basin. "For the mirror shows many things… some that were, some that are, and some that have not yet come to pass".

The young elleth stepped up to the mirror, and the Lady drew back, now standing still and waiting. Tauriel peered into it, and at first she could she nothing but her own reflection upon the surface of the water.

But then the water began to move, and its smooth surface was disrupted as images took form inside it. She saw the faces of her deceased parents, and then Thranduil saving her from the orcs and lifting her upon his elk. The next image was of Kili's death upon Ravenhill, and Thranduil's comforting embrace afterwards. The water then shifted, and it showed her the face of a smiling Legolas, seated upon his father's throne in Mirkwood, which quickly dissolved into Thranduil's own face of worry and sadness, as she left him alone on the talan and disappeared into the night. But then the water became turbulent, and an image of fire and smoke appeared. Arrows flew in the sky, and she saw herself, her beloved and her friends being struck down by the enemies. She saw Legolas fighting menacingly through dozens of orcs, trying desperately to reach somewhere, and she saw her teary and bloodied face, crying out in despair. And then she saw Thranduil chained and beaten, defeated, with his head bowed and the light gone from his eyes.

At once then the images disappeared, and Tauriel drew back with a heaving chest and tears in her eyes. "No…" she whispered in terror. "No, it cannot be!"

Galadriel, who had been standing passively and uninvolved up till now, swiftly walked close to Tauriel. "What did you see in the mirror?"

"I saw our downfall… pain and destruction… defeat… there was blood and fire and smoke everywhere. What does this mean, my lady? Are we going to fail in our venture?" she asked in dismay.

Galadriel placed her soothing hand on Tauriel's arm. "The mirror shows many things, and not all of them may come to pass. Do not despair; you only saw one possible outcome, but nothing is certain".

But the Captain's mind was racing, and she could not push aside what she had just seen. "Thranduil told me of a vision lord Elrond had had some time ago, and it spoke of a thorny path, which made our feet bleed, preventing us from reaching our destination. Oh my lady, how can I not despair, when all the omens are against us?" she cried and hid her teary face in her hands, collapsing on the stairs behind her. "I wish I had never seen this! I wish I had never looked into the mirror!"

Galadriel stepped softly and knelt beside her. "The mirror's images are not meant to dishearten you, but to strengthen your resolve. They serve as a warning, lest you make the wrong decisions and stray from your path. I understand that is hard for you now to see, but in time you shall come to realize the truth in it", she spoke gently, and looked deeply into Tauriel's eyes.

Reluctantly, the red-haired elleth allowed Galadriel's words to sink in, not daring to defy her wisdom and counsel, and she halted her sobs.

"Use this warning as a gift; use it with wisdom, and you shall not regret it", the Lady advised her. "That is why I asked you whether you are ready to embark upon this path that opens before you… Walk forth with courage, and you shall succeed. Cower, and you shall fail and despair".

At that she stood and slowly walked away, allowing Tauriel some privacy and a few moments to gather her thoughts and regain her composure.

When she was ready, the Captain stood and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Forgive my reaction, my lady. I was unprepared, and knew not what to expect", she spoke solemnly.

Galadriel turned to look at her with a small smile. "You are no coward. I know this, for I know your thoughts and your heart. The mirror is not for all to behold, and for even fewer to look into. I invited you to use it because I knew you were amongst those few".

Inadvertently, a reserved smile formed on Tauriel's face. "Thank you for honoring me thus, my lady. I fear I do not deserve it", she meekly responded.

But Galadriel spoke not; she only grinned mysteriously, and picked up the metallic pitcher, moving to place it again on the ledge of the fountain, where it originally stood. Tauriel perceived this as a notion that their conversation was over, and she hastily bowed to her.

"I bid you goodnight, my lady. I shall remember the lessons I was taught and the images I saw", she said.

"I know you will", responded Galadriel. "Go now in peace, and let your heart be troubled no more".

At that the golden—haired lady turned and walked further into the garden, until her silhouette was swallowed by the darkness.

* * *

The elves of Mirkwood were to stay in Lothlorien for a few days more, to enjoy the peace and beauty of the place, and to prepare for their journey home. Once they were back in their halls, only a brief visit to Rivendell remained to be carried out by Legolas, and then everything would be ready for the march southwards.

One of those final evenings, Tauriel had just bid good night to Elhedril after they had practised archery together, and was ready to climb up the ladder to their talan, when she saw Thranduil standing there at the foot of the ladder, waiting for her. There was a solemn expression on his face, and he had his hands loosely clasped behind his back. He wore a simple enough white tunic and a grey overcoat, while a thin circlet of mithril was upon his head.

He watched her longingly as she approached, and a small smile graced his face when she stopped in front of him, quite startled by his unexpected presence.

"My lord?" she muttered with uncertainty, and glanced around for fear of random onlookers.

A small sigh escaped him as he heard the formal address; it pained him that they still had to hide the true nature of their relationship from the public eye.

"Captain Tauriel", he responded softly, and his voice was like the evening breeze. "I had been waiting for you".

She took a few steps closer to him, so that they could talk in lower tones. "That much I can tell. But why?" she inquired and searched his eyes.

Thranduil looked a little disappointed now. "I wished to see you. Does that surprise you?"

Her countenance softened, and she lowered her gaze. Needless to say, she had not spoken a word to him about the mirror of Galadriel, and neither had he spoken to her of his talk with said lady. In fact, their exchanges since that night on the flet had been brief and rather formal, and they had shared no moment of intimacy or privacy, no matter how much they both longed for it. But it was as if an invisible hand had its grip on them and was holding them back.

Tauriel lifted her eyes at last to his, only to find him patiently waiting for her response. "How long have you been waiting here?" she asked him.

"Not long. I noticed you have established a daily schedule these last days here, and I knew this is the hour you return from your training with your new friend", he replied earnestly.

She regarded him for a while, and then said, "It is not proper for us to be seen here talking so privately". At that she made to move and grasped the pole of the ladder.

But Thranduil placed a hand on her shoulder, gently and not with force, thus preventing her from climbing up and away from him. "Is it a crime for a King to speak with his Captain?" And then he stepped closer to her still, trapping her between the ladder and his body. A familiar thrill ran down Tauriel's spine at the close proximity of her lover, and she inhaled sharply. "It rather seems to me that you seek to avoid me… there is an edginess in your conduct. Why, meleth nin? What has happened that I know not of?" he required of her, persistently but not unkindly.

She tried to turn and face him, and he took a step back, allowing her the necessary space to do so. She then locked her deep gaze with his, but her face remained grim. "I cannot speak right here, where my words may be heard. I cannot risk that".

The Elvenking took another step back and nodded. "I understand. I shall allow you some time to clean and refresh yourself… Meet me in an hour upon Cerin Amroth. I trust you know where that mound lies by now", he told her, resuming his formal and detached stance.

"I do", she plainly replied, and after giving them one final look, she climbed up the ladder and was soon gone from his eyes.

Thranduil lingered there for a moment, while countless thoughts were swirling in his head. It bothered him that she had been actively avoiding him. Could it be that she still felt a measure of anger towards him? Could it be that she was still disappointed? All these days he had decided to play along and leave her be, not seeking to intrude in her daily preoccupations or disrupt her privacy. But how long was this game supposed to last? It had started taking its toll on him, making him feel agitated and worried. If there was any reason for Tauriel's odd manner, he had to know now.

Slowly he started walking towards Cerin Amroth, trying to persuade himself that he need not worry too much, and that he would soon have the answers he sought. In an attempt to take his mind off of her, he turned his attention to his surroundings. The night had fallen now, and the stars glimmered from afar. A silver moon was also visible up in the sky, and it was almost full. Its gentle, pallid rays glanced on the leaves of the tress and made them shimmer like jewels. The path beneath his soundless steps was white and illuminated by lanterns on both its sides, as it crossed through the woods. Silence reigned everywhere, and only the nightly breeze could be heard whispering its enchantments through the leaves of the trees.

Cerin Amroth was located just to the north of Caras Galadhon, and it appeared before Thranduil's eyes as a green mound covered in golden and white flowers, which he recognized as Elanor and Niphredil. There were two circular rows of trees upon that hill, and a large mallorn with a white flet on top of it. Here once Amroth, son of Amdir and a close friend of Thranduil's, had his home and reigned over the Galadhrim. With bitterness and sorrow the Elvenking remembered him, for they had both lost their fathers in the battle of Dagorlad, and became Kings of their peoples afterwards. But fate had it that Amroth was to meet a tragic end at the Bay of Belfalas. After losing his only friend, and having also suffered the loss of his wife and the marring of his fea, Thranduil became even more introverted, turning his back on the world and its cruelty.

With a sigh and a frown, he took a seat upon a bench. Nobody was to be seen, as it was quite late, and he was grateful to be alone, for he wished for the company of none other but Tauriel. Lost in his gloomy thoughts he was, waiting in silence, when soft steps were heard in the distance, and he lifted his head to see his beloved approaching.

At once he stood from the bench, and she walked up to him. "You came", he whispered.

"Of course", she responded and looked into his eyes.

Thranduil's insides burned with the desire to take her in his arms and kiss her, but thought it was in his best interest to restrain himself for now.

"Are we alone?" she asked in a guarded tone, as she cautiously looked around.

"I believe so. I neither saw nor heard anybody while waiting for you here", he replied.

The Captain nodded, and let out a breath of relief. She then looked at him again with a weak smile. "Let us talk, then".

He guided her to sit on the bench, and he sat next to her. "Tell me, meleth nin, is there something troubling you?" he began with concern. "For you look distant and elusive, and I cannot but worry".

Tauriel cast her eyes low, looking pensive. Many things were in her mind, and she was unsure where to begin. In the end she chose a simple and direct approach.

"Have you thought of what I asked of you, when we last spoke in private?" she asked him and turned her emerald eyes to his.

"Of course. I promised I will try harder for us, and here I am now, trying", he replied without a moment's hesitation.

And it was true. Had he not respected her choice to keep a distance? And had he not sought her out now, when the worry began to accumulate? In his mind, he had taken a firm first step towards the fulfillment of his promise.

"I know", she said with a nod.

"But why have you been avoiding me? Have I displeased you in some other way? Or do you deem me undeserving of your company?" he asked on, striving to maintain control over his voice, which threatened to break at any moment.

"Of course not…" she breathed and turned to him with soulful eyes. "I have missed you terribly… your warmth, your touch, your kiss…" she confessed.

"Then why did you keep away from me?"

"Because I wanted to give you time to think of what we said that night, and to let you come to me when you would", she replied softly, and touched his hand with her fingertips.

Her light caress sent a jolt of lightning through his limbs, and he quickly enclosed her hand in his with great intensity.

"I am come now, and I am ready to speak my heart to you, and tell you of my issue with Galadriel", he whispered in fervor.

"I will listen, and then I shall speak as well", she responded, gazing deeply into his starlit eyes.

Thranduil nodded, and then proceeded to recount the event of his meeting with Galadriel. He spoke to Tauriel of his old grudge and the Lady's forgiveness, of his jealousy considering the rings of power and of the advice she had given him. Lastly, he told her of the question he posed to her, and the disheartening answer he received.

"All hope that my _fea_ may someday be free of the taint is now lost", he concluded gravely and hung his head. "I must bear the mark of evil forever".

Tauriel, nearly moved to tears during his narration, now brought her palm to gently cup his cheek. "We do not know that for sure. But even if it is proven so, evil does not define you. It does not dictate your behavior. I know that; I know you; I know your heart, and it is loving and tender, Thranduil. Evil will never prevail", she spoke warmly, and he desperately searched her eyes for hope that everything was as she said. "Take lady Galadriel's advice and leave the past to rest", she offered.

With a small nod he leaned closer and extended his hand, inviting her into an embrace. This time she did not refuse, and threw herself in his arms with a sigh, now letting her tears run freely on her cheeks. He held her against his breast, burying his face in her hair, and gently stroked her back.

"Tauriel… my love…" he breathed.

"Forgive me if I have been harsh with you or too demanding... It had never been my intention to cause you pain, or to keep you at a distance. Sometimes I forget the heavy burdens you bear with silent perseverance, for you always appear to be so strong and unyielding, and I fall under the illusion that you are invulnerable and indomitable", she rasped between sobs.

"Hush now… Our love is young, and we still have to learn much about each other", Thranduil comforted her. "You have not brought me grief; what you did was urge me to think about our relationship more considerately, and look beyond the parapet of my own needs and desires".

"We have both made mistakes, but it warms my heart to know we admit them and we are willing to correct them and move on", she whispered, feeling somewhat calmer now. Sitting up, she wiped her tears and looked into his eyes with determination. "And now it is my turn to speak to you of my meeting with lady Galadriel".

The Elvenking's brow furrowed, as worry crept inside his heart. "I feel what you are about to tell me will not be pleasant".

Tauriel shook her head, and motioned for him to be patient. "She invited me in her garden by the end of the feast, a few days ago. She spoke to me of the path that now unfolds before me, and then she asked me to look into her mirror", she narrated in a low and foreboding voice.

Thranduil's gaze darkened further. "And you did".

"I did. And what I saw was terrible and most horrifying, Thranduil. I saw war… fire and smoke… and pain… blood… and death. I saw our suffering and our defeat, as we fell to the hands of our enemies… And I saw you bound and shackled, mell nin, and my heart broke, and I could not bear to look into that cursed mirror any longer!"

At that she turned from him, with her heart pounding wildly in her chest, for it was as if she had relived the experience of the mirror. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and her breathing had become quick and shallow. Beside her Thranduil looked grim, but more composed than her, and he took her hand in his.

"I know of the mirror. I have looked into it myself… But not all the images it shows are bound to happen", he told her in a tone as steady as he could manage, and brought his hand to thread through her soft locks.

Tauriel remained as she was, with her shoulders bent and her body slightly shivering. "Lady Galadriel told me the same. But I cannot shake the feeling of fear that has gripped my heart ever since those terrible images appeared before my eyes. And I cannot disregard them, for lord Elrond's vision much agrees with the revelations of the mirror", she uttered frightfully.

Upon hearing Tauriel mention Elrond's vision, Thranduil's expression grew darker, and all thoughts of comfort fled from his mind. "You fear these terrible omens shall come to pass…" he observed.

"Indeed. The Lady told me that nothing is certain, and that I should only perceive them as a warning, so as not to make the wrong decisions… But will we be wise enough not to err? Or will we bring doom upon ourselves? Oh, mell nin, I feel so scared and lost…" she cried.

He embraced her once again, and soothingly kissed her brow. "You told me once, not so long ago, that whatever may come, we shall face it together. I must repeat you own words to you now, my love. Do not lose heart. Wars mean exactly that: blood and pain and death and suffering… But we cannot turn back now. We do not even have a choice, for this war is not of our making, and we cannot halt it. We must fight, Tauriel. There is no other way". His voice was soft but unwavering, and he placed another kiss at the top of her head.

The Captain took a deep breath, steeling her resolve, and drew back so as to look at her King. "Yes, my lord", she whispered.

A small smile curled his lips, and he softly caressed the outline of her face. "You are brave and courageous, my young Tauriel, and so determined to fight against evil. I understand your qualms, for you are still quite inexperienced. But trust me when I say that our hearts will not rest until this war is fought, and we emerge either victorious or dead. So brace yourself for what is to come, for our campaign against Dol Guldur will only be the first step in the greatest war of our time".

Tauriel gazed deeply into those silver-blue eyes of his, those ancient eyes, and saw wisdom in them. Those eyes had seen so much, since the days the world was still young. Was there anything his body and soul had not endured? Was there any danger or monster his blade had not encountered and felled? Drawing courage and hope from him, she managed a small smile, and kissed the hand that was caressing her face.

"Yes, my lord", she repeated in a more fervent tone, and her eyes now burned brightly.

Thranduil smiled, and closed the small distance between them, seeking to touch her lips with his. Tauriel resisted not, and their lips brushed tenderly in the first kiss they had shared in days. But as soon as that special contact was made, it was as if a dam had broken inside both their hearts, and all the repressed feelings were now unleashed, pouring forth freely, like a wild torrent that sweeps everything in its passing.

Gasping and panting, their kiss became deeper and more demanding, eager and passionate, while tongues fought for dominance, fingers tangled in silver strands and red curls, and limbs sought desperately to bring these bodies closer. The caresses and grasps became desperate and insatiable, frustrated by the annoying barrier of clothes that existed between them and persistently prevented them from enjoying each other's flesh to the fullest.

But when Thranduil's hand dared to creep beneath her tunic, a jolt of reason flashed in Tauriel's mind, and she abruptly grasped his wrist. "Wait… not here… We might be seen", she rasped breathlessly. "Let us go back to the talan", she suggested, but Thranduil shook his head.

"That is too long a walk, and I have not the patience for it. My desire for you is too great, Tauriel. We shall walk into the woods, where it is dark and silent, and there you shall at last be mine, and I shall at last be yours".

And so it happened, and the two enamored elves soon disappeared into the shadows of the forest.

* * *

 _A/N: Here at last, an update that was long due! I hope you enjoyed the read. My most heartfelt thanks to all my readers and followers, and to my Guest/Anonymous reviewers; I wish I could respond to you in private, but since this is not possible, I'll have you know here that I'm grateful for your continuous support!_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It was a rainy day in late _Gwaeron_ when Thranduil and his companions returned to Mirkwood. Now at last they would have the chance to rest from their travels and toil, and then begin the preparations for war.

The Elvenking, eager to learn of the events that had transpired in his kingdom during his absence, summoned his son in his chambers, once he had exchanged his riding attire for some more comfortable robes. When the Prince stepped into his father's rooms, he found him consuming his dinner with great appetite.

"I am here, father, at your behest", Legolas presented himself and stood upright and dutiful before his King.

"Legolas, ion nin", Thranduil greeted him in an informal and rather cheerful manner and lifted his eyes from his plate. Then he gestured with his hand and said, "Relieve your military pose, there is no need for that now. But tell me, how are you? For I have dearly missed you".

Legolas smiled, and paced closer to his father's table. "I am well, father. And I am glad to see you hale and in a fine mood as well. I had been awaiting your return with great impatience, for the documents that need to be reviewed and signed have started to pile up, and some of them are beyond my skill and experience, I fear", he replied.

Thranduil let out a chuckle. "It is a fortunate thing I have returned then", he mused and took a sip from his wine. "Tell me, what news have we?" he then required, directing his gaze to his son, and offering him a goblet of his favorite crimson inebriant as well.

Accepting the offer, Legolas took a seat opposite his father. "Nothing to cause you worry. The internal affairs of the realm run smoothly, and all, common people and soldiers alike, seem to be simmering with alacrity for the forthcoming campaign", he replied, as he stole a small piece of cheese from Thranduil's plate, causing the older ellon to lift an eyebrow in amusement. "Concerning that, I have sent scouts to Dol Guldur, and they returned a couple of days ago with valuable information. The forces of the Nazgul are estimated to number at least around ten thousand orcs and wargs, if not more, and numerous spider nests as well…"

"Hmm… So, the filthy hordes of the black fortress have multiplied since we last sent scouts. I had half expected that, but it is my conviction that their numbers are not beyond what we can handle efficiently", Thranduil responded thoughtfully. But then a small smile crept upon his face. "Well done, Legolas. I commend you on this initiative you took. You have saved us some precious time", he said and looked at his son with pride. "I might even let you have all of my cheese…" he belatedly added in jest, as Legolas was just about to steal yet another yellowish cube.

The Prince's eyes darted up, indicative of his mild surprise, but then both ellyn laughed heartily, and downed their wine. Then Legolas smiled softly, thinking of his father's flattering words, but did not allow himself to indulge too much in the praise. Instead, his mind turned again to the matter at hand. "But what about our allied forces, father? I take it that Lothlorien has agreed to aid us…"

"Yes, of course. I shall muster one third of our army – that would make for around three thousand warriors. Celeborn has promised me a force of two thousand Galadhrim; Bain of Dale spoke of one thousand men he can deploy, while Dain agreed on an army of dwarves of an equal number. And I expect Elrond to send at least one thousand soldiers… So that makes for a force of roughly eight thousand warriors. Two more thousands of our army shall be the reserves, in case the filthy swarms of Dol Guldur prove a worthy adversary", Thranduil explained as he finished his meal and took his goblet in his hand, hastily refilling it.

"Who shall be the leaders of the armies of our allies?" Legolas inquired with interest.

"Prince Brand shall lead the men of Dale, Prince Thorin the dwarves of Erebor, and Haldir the Galadhrim. As for Imladris, you will be the one to tell me who their leader shall be, since you will be the one visiting there", the Elvenking replied.

"And I suppose you shall retain the role of the head General", the Prince commented.

"Indeed I shall. The initiative for this venture is mine, and we will be providing the largest force. Furthermore, I will be the only King among the commanders, as I do not expect Elrond himself to march; he will probably assign the task of leadership to one of his sons", Thranduil answered with an air of superiority in his tone and gaze.

"It is quite odd, however, that the ring-bearers shall not aid us… And not even Lord Celeborn shall lead his warriors, but appointed the marchwarden Haldir in his stead", Legolas remarked with a furrowed brow.

Thranduil shook his head and slowly blinked. "It is not odd at all, Legolas. The rings of power cannot be revealed, now that the Dark Lord has openly declared himself, lest they draw his attention upon them. That is why they must still remain hidden, unless dire circumstances call upon their use. Do you understand?"

Legolas nodded. The whereabouts of the rings and their bearers should be kept secret from Sauron at any cost. And, in fact, very few were those who truly knew where the rings were and who wielded them. The Prince himself knew that Elrond and Galadriel held Vilya and Nenya respectively, but was unsure of who the third ring-bearer was.

"As for Celeborn, he trusts Haldir with this mission, while he himself has turned to more scholarly preoccupations lately, to my knowledge", the King added nonchalantly.

"I believe he trusts you above all, ada. Your battle prowess and skill with tactics and strategics is unparalleled", the Prince said with a small smile and a glint in his bright eyes.

"Do not flatter me, Legolas. I need no sweet-talking", his father said, but was unable to conceal his smile of self-contentment.

"But still, the burden of planning and ensuring the campaign's success will be on your shoulders alone…" the young ellon commented thoughtfully.

"Responsibility does not frighten me, ion nin", Thranduil spoke confidently and gave his son a steady look.

Legolas nodded, but his countenance remained serious. "Of course, I did not mean to doubt that, father. What I meant to say is that we will not be marching against mere orcs. My thought turns now to the Nazgul. We must not forget them. The orcs and the other minions of misery might not be a great problem for us to deal with, but the lieutenants of Sauron are another thing entirely, and we will be meeting them in their lair", he sought to remind him in a grim tone.

Thranduil sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I know, son. And the Nazgul are the only thing that causes me concern and worry. I fear not their skill with a blade, but the spiritual power they possess and can employ, in order to dominate their opponents. In that aspect, they are formidable enemies, and none should ever wish to meet them in battle", he said in a low, foreboding voice.

"But decimating the orcs and the wargs without challenging the ones who control them means nothing. Soon they will return in manifold numbers, if we do not manage an effective blow to their leaders", spoke Legolas, and looked at the King intensively.

"It is as you say, Legolas. And this is why the Nazgul will be challenged. But, I implore you, do not speak of this to any other as of yet. I wish not to strike fear in the hearts of our warriors needlessly. All shall be revealed and done in due time", Thranduil asked of him in an imperative tone.

"It will be done as you order, my lord father", the Prince obeyed, but concern did not leave his eyes.

The Elvenking nodded and took a slow sip from his wine before speaking again. "In the meanwhile, I suggest you hand over to me those papers that have given you trouble, and start readying yourself for your journey to Imladris. Elrond, and also your loved one, await your arrival", he told him with a faint smile, seeking to alter the subject to something lighter and more pleasant than the cursed Ringwraiths.

"But father, you have only just returned, and I have barely had time to see you!" Legolas protested.

"You shall have plenty of time to see me in the months to come. Go now, and do as I say", the King instructed him in a gentle but firm voice.

Legolas stood from his chair and walked to the door, but before crossing the threshold, he hesitated and looked back at Thranduil.

"How was your visit to Lothlorien, ada? And your meeting with Galadriel?" he asked him with care in his tone and gaze.

The Elvenking lowered his eyes. He remembered having revealed the burden of his heart to his son, and it was only fair now that he gave him an honest answer.

"The issue is resolved. I asked for her forgiveness for my irrational and unjust resentment, and she granted it, along with some advice", he replied thoughtfully, while his mind traveled back to the events of the previous days.

"And what about Tauriel? Is she alright?" Legolas asked on.

Thranduil turned his eyes to his son, and smiled. "I believe the only one able to answer your question aptly is none but Tauriel herself", he responded, and then brought his goblet to his lips once more.

Legolas lingered in thought for one brief moment, until a smile curled his lips, and then he exited his father's chambers.

* * *

The following morning Tauriel awoke with eagerness and excitement in her heart; she would be returning to her Captain's duties after this nearly two-month break that the negotiations had lasted. Furthermore, the calendar marked the twenty-eighth day of March, which was the month called _Gwaeron_ in the Sindarin tongue. And this day felt important to the young elleth, because it was exactly one year ago when Thranduil and she had confessed their feelings for each other in Rivendell. One whole year had gone by, and much had transpired in the course of it, but it all seemed to have happened in the blink of an eye to Tauriel.

With such thoughts dancing in her head, she jumped off her bed and quickly dressed in her guard's garb, and started making ready her bow and daggers, when she heard a soft knock on her doors. Suspecting it might be some maid with a request or a guard carrying out an errand, she granted them permission to enter without hesitation.

The doors then were pushed open, and the smiling face of Legolas appeared, much to the Captain's surprise.

"My lord Legolas!" she exclaimed wide-eyed.

"Good morning, Tauriel", he greeted her pleasantly and stepped inside the room.

"Good morning, my Prince. It is a surprise to see you here, I must confess…" she muttered, slowly waking from her initial shock, and sought to sheath her daggers and hang her bow on her shoulder.

Legolas leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know. But do not alarm yourself, for I come with a good purpose", he told her and his grin widened, while his eyes glinted mischievously.

Tauriel caught the familiar look on her old friend's face, and answered with a similar one and a raised eyebrow. "What is it, Legolas? What are you up to?"

He chuckled. "Let me inform you, Captain", he started in feigned formality, "that you are relieved of your duties today. I saw to it earlier, and have delegated your responsibilities to Anneryn, your second-in-command".

Her smile gave its place to disappointment now. "But why? I have sorely missed patrolling the woods with my warriors!" she protested.

"I am sure you have. I would never think you the type to enjoy long council meetings and endless, nerve-racking negotiations. But I wished for your company this fine morning, and I took the initiative to act as I did. Is that so selfish of me?" he asked with pouty lips.

Tauriel shook her head. "You are Thranduil's son indeed…" she murmured, as if talking to herself. "No, it is fine, Legolas", she then spoke aloud. "My squad can wait for my return one more day. What had you in mind, then?"

"Let us have a quick breakfast first, and then take a walk in the forest. I would have you narrate to me your experience of Lothlorien", the Prince replied.

"Very well", she agreed.

About an hour later the two elves were out of the halls and taking a leisurely stroll in the woods. The sun was shining brightly, and its rays dispelled the mist and shadow beneath the trees. A gentle breeze was blowing, carrying all the fragrancies of spring.

"So, what did you think of the Golden Wood?" Legolas asked.

"It was marvelous. Everything about it was so otherworldly and breathtaking… And it is so different from our home, Legolas. Here there are haunting shadows, and the constant fear of evil; in Lorien, there is only light, hope, and purity. No evil can stain that land. And the Galadhrim are a prosperous people, and friendlier and more open than we are. And how can they not be, since they live in the most beautiful elven realm there is? I used to consider Imladris peaceful and safe, but Lothlorien is truly something different. Imladris is home to the best scholars and the vastest lore-knowledge, but Lorien is the heart of the elven spirituality and power", she concluded with dreamy eyes.

"It is because Galadriel rules over it, and she is the most ancient and powerful elf of our time", Legolas commented. "I have visited Lorien once in the past, and I agree with your description. The sight is incredible, and staying there even for a few days comes as balm upon a worried and wounded heart". He then looked at Tauriel with deep care in his eyes. "Did you manage to find your own peace amongst the golden trees?"

She gazed into his eyes for a moment before looking away. "I found many things there", she replied thoughtfully. "I found peace, enlightenment, wisdom… and courage".

The Prince placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder, prompting her to halt her step, and looked at her searchingly. "You spoke with Galadriel".

"I did. And she had me look into her mirror", she told him, meeting his gaze.

"What did you see?"

Her gaze instantly darkened. "I saw images of the coming war… And all of them were dreadful, professing our doom and defeat", she answered with a sigh. "But I was instructed by the Lady, and by your father when I later spoke to him of this, to not surrender myself to fear and despair, for not everything the mirror shows may come to pass, and that its revelations should be used wisely, as a warning and as a guide for future decisions", she narrated in a low voice.

Legolas nodded slowly. "I have never looked into Galadriel's mirror, and I doubt I would ever wish to. Revelations of the future are always troubling, and burden one's heart with worries and sorrows… All the more if they are not certain, and you are left doubting and wondering which of them shall come to pass, and which shall not", he murmured. "I find it best if we know nothing of the future and forge our own destiny, with our minds free of such tethers and strains", he added in a firm tone.

"For me it is now done, however; I saw what I saw, and the images will forever be engraved in my mind", said Tauriel thoughtfully.

He gently squeezed her shoulder, and then let go of it, resuming his pacing. "I would, too, advise you to push them aside, if you can, and focus on the facts and your decisions. Did you not just tell me that this was my father's opinion as well?"

"Yes…" she affirmed. "Thranduil is very resolved about this campaign, and nothing would dissuade him from his cause".

"Yes, my father is like that. He is not one to change his mind easily, after he has made a decision" the Prince agreed, and then turned to Tauriel with a curious look upon his face. "By the way, how are things developing between you two?" he asked. "I do not mean to sound intrusive upon your private life", he hastened to clarify, "but I simply care for your well-being and your happiness, as well as my father's mental and sentimental stability, for I know how prone he is to mood swings and abrupt changes of temper".

Tauriel took a deep breath, pondering how to answer his question. "He is good, mellon nin, he really is. And he tries more than you would have perhaps expected of him. I will not deny that some issues arise every now and then between us; yet they are not of grave importance, and it is only natural for such things to happen, is it not?"

He nodded with a small smile. "Yes, it is. The same happens with Lossendis and me. Your words gladden my heart, Tauriel. You have been allotted a difficult time to live a romance, and a yet more difficult and demanding romantic partner at that. I admire your patience for dealing with my father at all times", he spoke sincerely.

The Captain smiled softly and lowered her eyes. "I regret nothing. I love Thranduil with all my heart, and I would not wish for him to be any different", she simply said.

Legolas smiled fondly at her, for her words pleased him deeply. "There are very few people who would agree with you, I fear", he commented with a small smile.

She shrugged. "I care not what the others think, for they do not know him as I do. Or as you do, for that matter, Legolas. They know only the King and the sovereign ruler, but we know the ellon, the father, the companion…" she said and her voice trailed off in thought.

"That is true. These aspects of him are unknown to the public. But do not allow your love for him cloud your judgment, and deceitfully turn my father's faults into virtues", Legolas warned.

Tauriel nodded. "I am not blind, my friend. Your father's _fea_ is tainted, and that might never change. But what he needs is support and encouragement, and not stale criticism, I believe".

Legolas looked at her with secret pride, and a small smile curled his lips, but he spoke not. They walked in silence for a while, enjoying the marvels of the renascent nature and the simple joy of being in each other's company.

"I have missed this…" Tauriel sighed and looked at Legolas.

He looked back at her and smiled gently. "So have I. Spending time with dear friends is precious, and quite rare in these dark days. But we must not lose hope that better days may come, and for that we must fight".

She nodded her agreement. "I heard you will be going to Imladris soon".

"Yes, I will leave the day after tomorrow", he replied. "My father wishes me to meet with lord Elrond and thus complete the cycle of the negotiations".

"But your trip will not be exclusively about politics; you will also have the chance to see Lossendis", Tauriel added with a devious grin, causing Legolas' cheeks to slightly redden and his gaze to drop.

"Well, yes, that is true. I must admit it was my father's idea to assign this errand to me, so that I will indeed spend some time with Lossendis, for lord Elrond's alliance is a given, and only needs a formal confirmation", he confessed.

"How long will you stay?" she inquired with interest.

"A week, give or take".

"Excellent. Let me tell you that I shall be coming with you, my Prince", Tauriel announced gleefully.

Legolas turned at her with a surprised look upon his handsome face. "How come? I thought you were eager to return to your duties in the Guard!"

"I will not deny that I want to return to my duties… But while in Dale, I made a mental promise to myself to visit Imladris as soon as I would get the chance to. And the chance is now given to me, and I shall not let it slip through my fingers", she explained. "Imladris has been my home for more than fifty years, and I have friends there, Legolas, the dearest amongst them being your loved one and also Arwen, and I would like to see them once, before we march to war", she said with longing in her eyes.

"I understand. Well, mellon nin, you are most welcome to join me on this journey", Legolas said with a bright smile. "Although, I fear my father will not be as pleased as I am, when you tell him the news of your imminent departure".

"Ah, Legolas, I worry not much about that; I am sure he will survive just fine a few days without me!" she chimed and laughed.

"I say that you are right", he said and bent his head close to hers, and then spoke in a conspiratorial manner. "Let us remove the distraction, so that he will be able to begin and concentrate on the preparations for war with undivided attention!"

The two elves then laughed merrily, and went on enjoying their morning walk and company of each other in that cheerful and carefree manner that reminded them of the olden days of their first youth.

* * *

Later in the day, Tauriel went to find Thranduil in his private chambers. She knocked on the doors twice and waited for his response.

"Who is it?" his voice was heard, and it sounded somewhat detached and weary.

"It is Tauriel, my lord", she replied.

"You may enter".

She opened the door to find him seated behind his desk, head bent upon a pile of endless documents that persistently waited to be reviewed and signed by the King. As soon as she stepped inside he lifted his eyes to her, and there was a peculiar glint in them as he whispered, "Close the door and lock it".

Tauriel did as she was told, and no sooner had she turned the key in the lock than she was hauled up in Thranduil's arms and had her brow kissed by him. His impulsive but nonetheless welcome gesture caused her to gasp and then chuckle joyfully.

He allowed her feet to touch the floor afterwards, but still held her tightly in his embrace and looked into her emerald eyes with longing. "Thank you for rescuing me from this mount of misery", he murmured and motioned towards the parchments upon his desk.

She glanced at them. "It looks like much work has accumulated during your absence", she commented.

"This is whatever Legolas did not feel compelled enough to preoccupy himself with!" he sighed in exasperation. "And I do not blame him; the content of most of these documents is tiring and vexing, to say the least. I repeat, I am glad you came and saved me from them", he told her with a soft smile of relief.

She smiled back and hid her face in his chest, closing her eyes and breathing in deep his scent, allowing her senses to relax and enjoying the presence of her lover. He perceived the slight change in her stance, and held her protectively against his breast, dropping soft kisses atop her head and caressing her curls of silken fire.

"Come, let us move to the bedroom", he offered quietly, and she nodded her agreement.

He led her into the dark chamber, and then proceeded to light a few candles on the table and the mantelpiece of the fireplace, which provided the room with their faint, yellowish light, painting the walls at once with elongated, dancing shadows.

Tauriel rested her body on the sofa, long and lithe limbs sprawled all over it. "Thranduil…" she called his name in order to attract his attention. He was still standing by the fireplace, lighting the last candles. At her call, he turned to look at her. "It is the twenty-eighth of Gwaeron", she told him pointedly.

An affectionate smile appeared on his face, which was now dimly illuminated by the candlelight. "I know", he answered warmly. "One year behind us… countless more ahead of us".

He undid the girdle of his robes as he walked to her, and their flaps slightly parted in the front, revealing a glimpse of his pale chest. Tauriel watched him with a lustful gaze, and extended her arm to him, inviting him to join her on the sofa. He took her hand in his, and knelt beside her, bending his head and kissing her fingertips with the utmost tenderness and care. She gasped at his gentle gesture, and leaned closer to him.

"Thranduil…" she whispered his name again, and her tone was loving, reverent even.

"I love you", he told her and looked at her with great longing in his eyes. "Never forget that".

Elated by his confession, and motivated by her own overwhelming feelings of love and passion, she cupped his face in her palms and ardently kissed his alluring lips. "As do I", she professed her love for him, and kissed him again.

His response was immediate and eager this time, and he soon abandoned his kneeling position, climbing upon the sofa and slowly lowering his body above hers. A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as soon as she felt his familiar weight pressed against her, and the first stirrings of arousal lit a fire inside her.

He kissed her again, and the kiss was deep and demanding now, while his deft fingers sought to undo the laces of her gown. Never breaking the kiss, she mirrored his move and pushed his garments off his shoulders, while boldly hooking a leg around his hip. Her action elicited a hoarse grunt from him, as well as an instinctive thrust of his pelvis against hers.

Feeling his growing need and prodding desire, she softly moaned, and abandoned his lips in favor of his throat. He surrendered himself to her ministrations, enjoying them for a time, before he took action again and went to lick and gently nimble on her sensitive ear. His hands now crept impatiently beneath the fine material of her gown, and, loosened as it already was, easily peeled it off her body, leaving her now exposed under his hungry gaze and insatiable touch. Feeling every curve and valley of her body, he left no place unexplored and unworshipped, whether it be by hand or mouth and tongue.

Tauriel panted helplessly in his arms, as much a victim to her own passion as to his. She lay beneath him pliant and willing, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving, and her legs slowly parting for him. "Do not make me wait any longer, mell nin…" she breathed helplessly, urging him not to prolong their union further, and dug her fingers in his shoulders, drawing him closer to her.

With half-lidded and darkened eyes of love and lust he descended on her, claiming her swollen lips in a heated kiss once more, while placing himself between her legs, and slowly guiding his arousal inside her. Holding his breath, inch by inch he pushed until he entered her fully, and they both gasped as they finally became one. With great effort he halted there, unmoving, and brought himself to look into the bottomless, viridescent pools that were her eyes. Such was the intensity of his gaze as he beheld her at this moment of their mutual fulfillment and surmounting need, that she gasped again, and a tear ran down her cheek.

Thranduil then bent his head and kissed that tear away, while he began moving slowly inside her, gradually easing their tension of anticipation, and they relaxed in each other's arms, falling into the rhythm of their passion and their bodies dancing with it.

Together they moved towards their completion, eager but not hurried, the tenderness of their caresses and kisses accompanying the heat and friction of their conjoined lower bodies. And it was not long before Tauriel could not hold back anymore, and she came apart in her lover's arms, sighing and moaning in ecstasy. Thrilled by her inner walls' sheathing and constricting frantically around him, it took Thranduil only a few more erratic thrusts to meet his own relief as well, shuddering in his beloved's embrace, and gasping defenselessly, in utter submission to her love.

Unwilling to break their physical contact, he remained lying there on the sofa with Tauriel gathered protectively in his arms, while their heartbeats and their breaths gradually returned to their normal rates.

She then turned in his embrace and slid her arm around his waist, allowing her warm palm to rest just above his hip. Her eyes sought to meet his, as a cloud of blissful sleepiness began to descend upon their eyelids.

"Stay with me tonight…" he whispered to her and lazily traced her chin with his fingertips.

"Alright", she consented. "There is nowhere else I would like to be at the moment", she added.

He offered her a smile of contentment. "Then let us relocate to the bed and crawl beneath its warm covers", he suggested, and, forcing the somnolence off his limbs, he stood and lifted Tauriel in his arms, stepping quickly to the bed and laying her upon the mattress.

Now tucked under the blankets, their bodies welcomed the warmth, and the lovers were quick to relax, as drowsiness returned to their eyes.

"I shall be journeying with Legolas to Imladris…" she murmured.

Thranduil turned to her with an incredulous look, sleepiness suddenly chased from his form. "Really?"

"Yes…" she sighed. "I wish to see my friends there before we go to war", she explained.

He remained silent for a little while, contemplating her words. "I understand", he finally said. "Imladris has been an important part of your life. I would never ask you to give it up, nor is there any reason for you to do so".

"Thank you for understanding, Thranduil", Tauriel whispered lovingly.

"I did not say I will not miss you, however", he added afterwards, with a hint of complaint in his voice.

"Oh, I know. I will miss you as well… But this is something I really want to do", she insisted.

He brought his hand to push a stray curl from her face. "Then do it. I shall respect your decision".

At that he leaned closer, and kissed her lips tenderly. She wound her arms about his shoulders, pulling him closer still, and responded to his kiss with fervor. As she gave in to his love and passion once more, inside her Tauriel was feeling blissful and liberated. She thought that it was exactly as Thranduil had said: one year of their shared life had just gone by, and countless more were to follow, and she would allow no war or Shadow to deprive her of that.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The following weeks went by fast. Legolas and Tauriel went to and returned from Rivendell, having ensured its allegiance, as it had been expected, and lord Elrond had pledged a force of around two thousand warriors. In the meantime, Thranduil and his Commanders saw to the war preparations. Everything was done in as much secrecy as it was possible, so as not to attract the attention of their enemies. Not few were the times that scouting bands of orcs had to be dealt with, but the elves knew that eventually the Shadow would learn of their plans; a campaign of such magnitude could not be kept a secret for long, and the Elvenking simply wished to gain as much time as possible.

Such were the circumstances during those weeks. But the time was now come when each of the allied armies marched off from its homeland, and they had now started gathering in the Elvenking's realm. For this was the appointed meeting point for all, except for Lothlorien's forces, which the allied armies would meet once they had neared Dol Guldur.

First arrived the men of Dale under Prince Brand's command. These were mostly heavy swordsmen, wearing chainmail armor, and were distinguished by their brownish cloaks. A few days later came the dwarves of Erebor, with Prince Thorin leading them. The valiant dwarves wore plate and chainmail armor made of mithril, and wielded long spears, axes, and shields. Only the arrival of the elves of Rivendell was now expected, before the army could begin marching southwards.

One of these days Thranduil summoned Tauriel in his chambers. It was afternoon, and she had just returned from her patrol, when she was informed that the King had requested her immediate presence.

Surprised by the imperative tone of the order, she wasted no time cleaning herself or changing clothes, and made for the Elvenking's rooms quickly. Worrisome thoughts had begun taking form in her head, for it had been too long since he had last sent for her in such a manner. What could it be that he wanted to tell her? Was something amiss? Had perchance some trouble amongst the allies arisen? Such and countless other questions were dancing in her head, for she could never imagine the real reason for this summons.

Once before his doors, she was yet again surprised to find a guard standing there, for Thranduil only rarely stationed guards outside his chambers. The armor-clad elf motioned for her to wait, and he proceeded to announce her arrival to the King. A moment later, the permission was granted and she stepped inside his familiar chambers with a heart beating fast in anxiety.

She glanced about the room, noticing the curtain of the window having been drawn to the side, thus allowing plenty of light to enter the chamber. Upon his desk lay numerous parchments in an unorderly manner, some rolled and some unfolded, one piled upon another. Upon his chair a grey cloak was hastily draped, and against its back leaned the King's twin swords in their scabbards. Her eyes found said King pacing around the antechamber, hands clasped behind his back, and brow slightly furrowed. He was dressed not in the comfortable robes that he usually wore while in the privacy of his rooms, but in leather armor and high boots. By the looks of things, Tauriel could tell he was in a hurry and about to be off to somewhere.

She came and stood a few steps before the closed door. "My lord?" she began with some hesitation, unsure of how to address him at the moment, for she could not guess his frame of mind.

"Thank you for answering my summons at once, Captain", he responded in equal formality.

She stared at him for a brief time with her lips slightly parted, feeling still bewildered. "Is something wrong?" she inquired carefully, and dared a step closer.

Thranduil came to stand opposite her and drew up to his full, imposing height. "No, there is nothing wrong. I simply called you here because I have some orders to deliver", he replied, maintaining his cold and strict manner.

Tauriel dutifully bent her head, forced to follow his example, even though she could not explain why he was being so formal with her, while they were alone and in the privacy of his chambers. "I stand at your command, my lord", she muttered.

He regarded her for a long moment, drawing in a guarded breath before speaking. His heart ached to put this distance between them now, but in what other way would he ever be able to tell her what he was about to tell her? If she had lifted her eyes then, she would have seen his demeanor soften by a fraction, but her eyes were kept low at all times. Swallowing hard, he decided to speak.

"I have reached a decision concerning your duties during the campaign. You are not to march with the army. You are to remain here as a Captain in the Guard, patrolling our borders and ensuring the safety of our people".

Her eyes darted up to his, opened wide in shock now, and a gasp escaped her lips. She desperately searched his gaze for traces of kindness, but she was only met with ice and steel.

"My lord?" she uttered in disbelief.

He gave no answer, but averted his gaze and paced towards the desk, retrieving a document from a pile of many.

"Thranduil?" she called his name with great care and reluctance, fear even.

What was this sudden and inexplicable order of his? What was this aloof and detached stance? Her heart was pounding like a dwarven drum in her chest, while feelings of disappointment and anger threatened to choke her and caused tears to form in the corners of her eyes.

The Elvenking was standing rigid as a statue, but inside him he was being torn apart. He hated to hurt her like this; he hated to speak to her so coldly, as if she was a mere soldier and nothing more to him. But if he allowed her to speak freely and as his equal now, he would soon yield, she would win the argument, and he would have to suffer every single moment during the campaign.

"You must stay here. It is an order, Captain", he forced himself to speak in a steady and commanding tone, presenting her at the same time with the parchment he was holding, but his agony slipped through the unguarded crevices of his façade and was perceived by Tauriel.

This did not quell her boiling rage, however. "Why must I stay behind, my lord, while everybody else shall march with you, if I may ask? Am I not worthy enough to fight by your side?" she demanded in a hard but also hurt tone, aware now that she was overstepping, but willing to take her chances nevertheless.

Her audacity caused his demeanor to change abruptly. "Because I am your King, and I command you so! Do you dare question your King?" he bellowed, his height looming over her and his eyes giving out blistering sparks of wrath.

Tauriel recoiled, frightened by his behavior. For she had long forgotten how fearsome and terrible Thranduil could become when given to fury, and this incident now came as a horrid reminder to her. She took a step backwards, and her gaze flickered.

"No, my lord", she stuttered, her voice barely audible, while the tears were now rapidly blurring her vision as they welled up in her low-cast eyes.

Thranduil took a deep breath to calm his anger, and extended the document to her. "This is the royal order concerning the Guard and its duties during our campaign. Convey it to the rest of the Captains", he instructed her in a more restricted manner.

She slowly lifted her eyes, first allowing them to fall upon his outstretched hand and that despicable order of his that prohibited her from fighting by his side, and then rising to meet his. She saw impassivity in their depths, but Tauriel knew Thranduil by now well enough to be certain that this impassivity was feigned. Still, it hurt her most profoundly to be treated by him in that unjust manner.

He was waiting for her to take the parchment, striving to maintain his cold exterior. However, when he was met with her teary eyes, something broke inside him, and the slight twitch of his brow gave away his inner turmoil. He knew he had hurt and disappointed her, but his pride would not let him alter his stance now, so he kept watching her with lips drawn into a thin line and frowning.

Tauriel lifted her hand and grasped the document, but allowed her fingers to deliberately brush against his, and she lingered there, anxiously awaiting his reaction, and a sign of change and regret from his side.

But none came. Thranduil's frown only grew deeper at her soft touch, and he sought to leave the parchment in her hand and quickly removed his. He then turned from her, looking away and once more clasping his hands behind his back. "You are dismissed, Captain", he spoke plainly.

She regarded him for a brief while, the hard lines of his profile now accentuated further by his frown and the sharpness of his manner, and the cold, pale light of the morning did nothing to alleviate the effect. He looked like a statue made of ice and stone, and she knew it inside her that he would remain thus until she was gone from his sight. With the taste of bitter bile on her tongue and having been left with no other choice, Tauriel obediently bowed before her King and then turned on her heel and left his chambers with a quick stride.

* * *

The sound of the door closing served as a relief to Thranduil; he could now drop his icy façade and breathe deep his sadness, allowing his eyes to welcome the stinging tears and his face to constrict into a mask of bitter pain. Grasping his cloak and mindlessly tossing it to the floor, he dragged his chair forth and collapsed in it, causing his swords to fall and meet the floor with an angry clatter. And, as if the sound of metal clashing against stone had served as a trigger, in a fit of momentary anger and disappointment he sent parchments, candles and ink holders flying from his desk with a sweep of his arm.

The noise of the mess he had created died down as soon as it had arisen. A choked sigh and then a sob came out of him, and his hands balled into fists. How had it come to that?

He had known the order would not sit well with Tauriel. Bold, fierce, brave, feisty Tauriel, who wished for little else than to fight the Shadow by his side. He had known she would be saddened by his decision, angered even. But he had not expected himself to behave so coldly; he had not planned to yell at her or use his kingly state to bring her back to line. He had hoped for a more civil conversation, where he could meet her objections with reasonable arguments _. I cannot allow you to risk your life, my heart,_ he had truly wanted to tell her. _I will never be able to fight the enemy if I am concerned each and every moment about your safety. It is not that I do not trust your fighting skills; but your enthusiasm and your eagerness scare me. I fear I will not be able to protect you. I fear I will fail for a second time in my life._

For as soon as the campaign had become a real prospect, memories of a time long ago returned to the Elvenking's thoughts. Tauriel's fearlessness and steadfastness reminded him of Lothrin, when they were preparing for the march against Gundabad. He remembered her glowing eyes and pride when she presented her newly adorned breastplate to him, with the white gems embedded in the metallic surface. He remembered her excitement and devotion to their cause when they rode side by side, and her battle fury when she mercilessly slayed orc after orc in her righteous wrath. And he remembered when she valiantly stood against the dragon, selflessly sacrificing her life to save his.

What if he was meant to live a replay of events before the gates of that black fortress?

His heart trembled at the mere thought of it. No, he could never allow it. He could never risk it, even if it meant that Tauriel had to be angry at him for leaving her behind. He would rather die a thousand deaths than risk losing her.

He had only hoped he would have been able to make her understand. But instead of that, she had seen once more his ugly and cruel side. Thranduil was gravely disappointed in himself for retreating so easily to his old ways as soon as he was met with objection. And he grieved deeply, for he had failed in truly conveying his message, his feelings, his heart, to the one he loved. But for his promises, he had failed her yet again.

Weary and pained, he stood up. With a heavy and unwilling heart, he gathered his cloak and weapons and made to exit his chambers. He was expected at the barracks, to survey the final preparations. With a deep frown upon his brow, he marched to the call of duty.

* * *

Tauriel actively avoided her King in the next couple of days. Her aggravation, hurt and distress ran deep, and she did not wish to be faced with Thranduil, for she knew not how she might react, and she did not want to allow her worst self to take over. She thought she had better remain silent and out of sight, seeing to her duties as an obedient Captain and nothing beyond that.

Of course, she was not pleased with her manner of conduct during her meeting with Thranduil. Unable to restrain herself, she had allowed her audacity to surface so easily. For a moment, she had forgotten she was only a Captain receiving an order from her King, and she had believed she was entitled to a more informal approach and a more lenient treatment by him. But she was wrong. She was not his equal, and she had shown insubordination. Again.

Just when she thought she had started taking a few steady steps towards a more mature way of thinking – a more _queenly_ way of thinking, there she was, slipping back to old manners thoughtlessly. Instead of maintaining her calm and composure and seeking to address the matter of her being left behind with Thranduil in a civilized manner, she gave in to her rising ire and allowed feelings of resentment to instantly make a nest in her heart. How could he not respond similarly and use his royal state to impose his will upon her?

The young Captain sighed in frustration, set her bow aside and sat down. Her attempts to focus on training had proved futile, and her sullen face came in contrast with the excitement flourishing around her, for the preparations for the campaign had reached their zenith, and the barracks were buzzing like a beehive with enthusiasm and impatience. But Tauriel could not share in the soldier's mirth and high spirits. This was a campaign she would not be part of.

The sound of an elven horn being blown in the distance brought her out of her musings. The direction of the sound came from the northwest, and her keen ears could not be deceived; this was a sound she knew well, for she had heard it several times before. It belonged to a horn of Rivendell!

Joy was born in her heart, shining like a ray of sunshine in a cloudy sky and warming her, and she sprang to her feet. Quickly she made her way through the rows of soldiers, and she noticed the commotion that had arisen in the archery grounds. "Is it Rivendell? Are they at last come?" someone wondered. "It must be Elrond!" another exclaimed, and such talk was among the elves now.

Leaving the training grounds behind, she hastily made for the gates of the Elvenking's halls. As soon as she arrived, crowd had already gathered there. Gently pushing her way through it, she managed to reach the front lines from where she could have a view of the meeting that was about to happen.

To the far end of the great bridge, and partially hidden in the eaves of the forest, stood Rivendell's warriors in even lines, archers and swordsmen alike, tall and proud in their gleaming golden armor. At the helm of the army were a few riders, dressed in fine cloaks, and she could clearly make out the face of Elladan amongst them.

 _Elladan!_ Her heart sang. The son of Elrond had been a dear friend and also an admirer of hers, and she would be a liar to say she had not missed him. A smile crept upon her lips, and her emerald eyes gleamed with happiness.

However, the ellon did not seem to notice her, as his attention was drawn by the low rumble of the heavy doors opening and the appearance of Mirkwood's sovereign, who now walked forth, stern in his measured pace. His crown of green branches and blooming leaves was above his silver hair, and an olive-colored cloak trailed behind his step. The Elvenking was followed by the Prince and his advisors in a ceremonial manner.

Elladan dismounted and took a few steps towards Thranduil, stopping to bow before him in reverence. "Hail Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm!" he called and brought his hand upon the place of his heart, in the elven fashion of heartfelt greeting.

"Elladan, son of Elrond, I bid you welcome in my kingdom", the Elvenking spoke in a deep and sonorous voice, slowly mirroring the gesture of greeting. "Your arrival has been much anticipated. Now we can begin our southward march with no further delay", he stated, and then motioned for the elf of Imladris and his companions to follow him inside his halls, while appointed elves saw to the Rivendell warriors and their accommodation.

Tauriel followed the small company with her gaze, her eyes dancing from Thranduil to Elladan and back. A mixture of feelings reeled in her heart: on one hand, there was gladness for the presence of Elladan now here, whom she could barely wait to meet and speak to, and on the other, love and longing for Thranduil, whose embrace she had sorely missed. But it was a feeling still tainted by hurt and anger towards him, for she had not found reason to fully forgive his curt behavior towards her, although she had managed to justify it to some extent.

It was her thought to allow the day to pass, and wait for the morrow, so that Elladan might have enough time to rest from his journey before she sought him out. It would be unseemly to bother him now, before he had been allowed his rest, and it did not escape Tauriel's memory how well Elladan had always cherished his hours of undisrupted peace. Additionally, she was quite certain Thranduil was planning a final council among the leaders of the armies sometime the following day, thus she made up her mind to wait until said meeting was over and Elladan was free of any other obligations for the day.

So, the next morning rolled by quite in the manner she had expected, and she was now pacing rather nervously just outside the council chamber. She was not alone there, for the hall was full of elves, all of them military officers of high stations, and quiet chatter was going on among them. Dressed in her guard's garb, the Captain's presence did not seem out of place.

Soon enough the doors opened, and the King's voice was heard dismissing the council and wishing his guests a pleasant afternoon. One by one they exited the chamber. First came Thorin Stonehelm. His eye caught Tauriel, and he paused in his step to greet her. A few warm words were exchanged between them, as they were reminded of their unspoken alliance in their attempts to change Dain's mind during the elves' stay in Erebor.

Brand walked out of the room while she was bidding the dwarven Prince goodnight, and then came Elladan. His bright eyes fell immediately upon Tauriel, and a smile lit his fine features.

"Tauriel! What a wonderful surprise!" he exclaimed cheerfully and came to stand before her.

"I should be the one saying this, Elladan", she responded, and gifted him with a soft smile.

His own smile widened, and then he placed his hand on his chest and bowed. But she disregarded this formal display of affection, and proceeded to throw her arms about him and embrace him warmly.

Having not expected this, Elladan was startled and stood frozen for a second, while long-buried emotions of romantic affection towards her now came to life again in his heart. But quickly he came to and enclosed her in his arms, feeling blissful to be in her presence again after so long.

In that most unfortunate moment stepped the Elvenking out of the council chamber, and his stern gaze was met with a sight that made him stop in his step, and instantly lit the embers of jealousy and anger in his heart. His eyes turned cold and hard as ice as he looked at the embraced pair, and his brow drew into a deep frown.

Then Tauriel shifted slightly in Elladan's arms and opened her eyes, looking from over his shoulder, only to meet Thranduil's unforgiving gaze. His brow twitched in suppressed ire and hurt, and her lips parted slightly as she inadvertently trembled, for she knew the thoughts that her lover was now thinking, and she had not meant to present him with reasons to doubt her honesty and fidelity. True enough, such things were nigh unheard of amongst elves, and they signified a most decadent and lowly character.

But the Elvenking did not allow himself to linger, and tore his eyes from that distasteful sight. Purposefully, he held his chin high and walked forth, greeting some of the gathered elves in a formal manner. Tauriel watched him from out of the corner of her eye until he was lost from her sight.

Elladan broke the embrace and held her from her shoulders, thus inviting her attention back to him, oblivious to what had just transpired. Tauriel managed a small smile and forced herself to focus on the ellon in front of her.

"Tell me now, how are you, my dearest friend?" he asked her tenderly and moved to cradle her face in his palms, almost like an old lover would do. "Is your old home as welcoming as you had wished it to be?"

Tauriel brought her hands upon his, gently removing them from her cheeks and bringing them down to simply hold them. His gesture had been kind, but it made her feel uneasy.

"I am well, mellon nin. This forest may be dark, but it is the one I shall ever call home, and my heart belongs here", she gave him her answer in earnest. "Come now, let us walk out of this crowded room", she offered and led him out of the halls and into the garden. The sun was about to set, and nature was really peaceful in her slumber.

 _My heart belongs here._ Elladan pondered her words as they walked, trying to decipher their deeper meaning, for he was sure there was one. Glimpsing at her emerald eyes, he saw many things reflected there. He saw love and devotion and loyalty, but also worry and pain.

"Are you happy, Tauriel?" he asked her with sincere care.

She allowed a soft sigh, followed by a soft smile. "Yes, for the most part I am. But we live in dark times, and we elves feel the sorrows of the world most profoundly, and are bound to its fate", she replied and lowered her eyes.

"This is true. But I was not referring to the fate of the world, Tauriel…" he started, but his voice faltered, as he hesitated to delve into more personal fields.

But she understood his meaning, and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know. I am well, Elladan. Please believe me when I say this", she told him, choosing not to reveal any details.

He nodded, accepting her answer and requiring nothing more. "I have missed you", he whispered breathily.

"And I you. How could I not?" she said tenderly and lightly squeezed his arm. "But when did you return from the Trollshaws? For I was in Imladris not three weeks past, and you were still on your mission with your brother", the Captain observed.

"Arwen spoke to me of your visit. It was such a misfortune that I was still away at the time, and thus missed the chance to see you. But Elrohir and I returned only a fortnight ago, and right upon my return this duty here was assigned to me by my father. I barely had time to rest", Elladan explained with a pouty face, which caused Tauriel to smile.

"Has your mission been successful, at least?"

"Yes, but there is still much work to be done in the Trollshaws. No matter how many of the foul creatures we vanquish, numerous more rise to take their place. But at least we manage to maintain a respectable measure of peace and order, and the main trails are kept free of danger", the son of Elrond responded.

Tauriel nodded in appreciation. "I have always admired you, Elladan", she murmured softly. "What you have taken upon with Elrohir is extremely important for the peace of Middle Earth".

"This burden will now fall solely upon the shoulders of my brother, as I am here to lead our forces against Dol Guldur", he said with a sigh. "You at least can understand my job and my duties… I imagine your mission here in the Woodland Realm does not differ that much from mine", he commented thoughtfully.

"Indeed", she agreed. "We keep killing spiders and orcs and destroying their nests and dwellings, trying to control their numbers, at least north of the Old Forest Road. But what goes on further south is another matter entirely", she murmured.

"I know what you mean. It is precisely why we must ride south to Dol Guldur. And I am glad I shall draw swords together with a friend who understands me so well", he said with a glint in his eyes.

But the elleth's face fell, and she paced away from him. "I fear this shall not come to pass", she sighed. "The King has ordered all guards to remain in the kingdom and see to its protection while the army is away".

"Oh… I see", he only said in a deflated tone. "I regret hearing this, but it is understandable, and necessary. My father has delivered similar orders in Imladris", he informed her.

Tauriel looked at him and nodded. "I acknowledge this; yet it does nothing to lessen the disappointment in my heart".

"You had wished to fight".

"Yes".

Elladan's expression became mellow and sympathetic as he paced closer to her. "Worry not, mellon nin. Many battles shall come in this war, which is only now beginning, and you will definitely have a chance to prove your mettle later on", he tried to comfort her.

But Tauriel shook her head, looking unappeased. "I wish reason prevailed in my heart and mind, but, alas, it does not".

Her thoughts turned to Thranduil then, or rather returned, for it was practically impossible for her to chase him from her mind completely. The incident between them three days ago still bothered her, and the pain was mercilessly gnawing at her heart. And on top of that, there was his hard gaze burning into her soul not an hour ago. Was this the way they would part? It would not be long now before the army would set off, as there was no reason to tarry further. In a couple of days' time he would be gone and she would never have the chance to make things right with him. And who knows for how long he would be gone, and what might befall him in the dire battles with the enemy…

Tauriel's heart pounded with agitation, and she felt being torn asunder, as if two invisible forces were pulling her from opposite directions. She hated to be parted from Thranduil in that manner, but she was stubborn enough not to take the first step and approach him. Was that the way of his love? To hurt her thoughtlessly and do nothing about it? If it felt right by him to have behaved thus and leave it as it were, without an apology or even an explanation, then perhaps he was not worth her efforts.

With this persuasion, she tried to push the thoughts of him from her mind, and resumed the conversation with Elladan, choosing to spend the rest of the day in the company of her old friend.

* * *

Like a caged beast paced Thranduil in his chambers. His spacious and airy rooms did not seem enough to contain his irritation and rage. Not only had things gone awry between Tauriel and him, but now Elladan was also here, and he looked to familiarize with Tauriel way beyond what the Elvenking thought proper. It was not that he disliked the son of Elrond; he was a fine ellon, well-mannered, polite and educated. It was that he hated the way Tauriel took him in her embrace. _Is this the solace she seeks? Would she rather throw her arms around him than come to me to sort out our issue?_

Such questions burned in his thoughts, and he could not find peace. And the fact that his chambers had an excellent view of the gardens, in which now Tauriel and Elladan leisurely sauntered side by side, did nothing to alleviate his annoyance; it only exacerbated it further.

A sharp knock on his doors disrupted his thoughts. "Yes?" he called curtly.

"My lord, the Prince is here to see you", one of his guards announced.

"Allow him in", he said and dismissed the elf with a wave of his hand.

Soon enough Legolas stepped inside. "Good evening, ada", he started.

Thranduil nodded, trying his best to hide his foul mood. "Ion nin, what brings you here at this hour?"

He took a deep breath. "Worry".

"Worry?" Thranduil's attention was now fully drawn to his son, and he looked at him with concern.

"Worry about you, about Tauriel, about the campaign", Legolas replied and took some steps closer.

A frown descended upon the Elvenking's brow as soon as he heard her name. "There is no need for you to worry. All is well and will go according to plan", he said in feigned reassurance.

"Father, I am no child to be sweet-talked to or ordered around", the Prince countered and his countenance turned grimmer. "I briefly met with Tauriel earlier. She is distraught, and although she refrained from revealing all the details to me, I know the cause is you", he said and pointed an accusatory finger at his father.

Thranduil felt his anger rise again. "I do not remember appointing you as my judge, elfling", he responded harshly. "And you presume to know too much".

"Are you saying that I am wrong, then?" Legolas challenged him. Thranduil's eyes narrowed, and then he averted them. The Prince found the answer he sought in the King's silence. "I knew I was right. What did you do this time to cause her such grief, and on the eve of our departure at that?" he demanded.

Thranduil snorted in frustration. "Why must you assume I am in the wrong? Her grief is of her own doing".

"What do you mean?"

"Her audacity knows no bounds. I thought she had started overcoming it, that she was adopting a more mature way of thinking and behaving, but she has proved me wrong. I gave her an order, and she displayed disobedience simply because she did not like it. I will not tolerate that neither from Tauriel or any of my subjects", Thranduil said sternly.

"What kind of order was that?"

"It was the royal decree concerning all the Captains of the Guard: that they were to remain here and protect our realm in my absence", Thranduil answered, beginning to tire with his son's questioning.

Legolas remained thoughtful for a little while, leaning against the wall, arms crossed before his chest. His father watched him closely.

"Clearly she wished to march and fight beside you, to be there for you at all times, to watch over you", the young ellon said quietly.

"So did your mother… And she died", Thranduil murmured bitterly, his fists now trembling at his sides.

Legolas inhaled sharply and was left speechless. He could now see why his father chose not to take Tauriel with him, and he could not give him wrong for that. But he could also see Tauriel's side.

"I understand, father. You fear for a repetition of events. Your decision is not irrational, though I see why Tauriel feels hurt; she feels left behind, to wallow in her worry over you while being stuck here and unable to do anything about it but wait. Have you any idea how cruel it is to condemn someone to the fetters of idleness?"

Thranduil regarded his son for a few moments, and his demeanor softened. "I know. But I would rather she was idle and safe, than…" he shook his head and sighed. "Than dead, and lost to me". He placed his hands on his desk and leaned upon it, head bowed between his shoulders. "Perhaps it is a selfish thing to do, but it is the only thing I can do for her now. I will not have her risk her life, at any cost. Let her be angry at me, let her think of me as a stern King, let her seek the company of others for comfort. I will find solace in the thought that she is alive and breathing".

Legolas remained to stare at him sorrowfully. It grieved him to see his father so distressed. But he felt there was nothing else he could say upon the matter.

"I am sorry things had to be this way. But the whole army respects you and will look to you for guidance and command, father. As will I. Soon we will be leaving. Please, I beg of you, do not fall apart. You are our King. We need you to lead us by example and not only words, we need you to be strong and committed and not plagued by tormenting thoughts. It would be disconcerting for the soldiers. We cannot afford to appear irresolute before the forces of Dol Guldur. The enemy is cunning. They will seek out our weaknesses and try to exploit them", the Prince urged and warned him.

Thranduil raised his head and seemed to be slowly regaining his composure. "I know, ion nin", he nodded. "Worry not. I will be what you ask, and more".


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Spring was now well in its course, and the chill of winter was past. Snow covered only the highest peaks of Erebor in the north, and the days had gotten longer, sunnier and warmer. Nature bloomed, covering the ground with an intricate tapestry of myriads of colors, and the trees were green with young leaves. Even the shadow that was upon the forest once called Greenwood could not hinder nature's rebirth.

Such scenery was around the Elvenking's army and their allies as they marched southwards, although the farther from their borders they ventured, the darker and denser the forest became, bearing heavily the influence of evil. Not few were the spiders the soldiers killed on their way, but they were stray ones, as they dared not attack the massive force.

To the front rode the Elvenking on his elk, dressed in his gleaming silver armor. On his head was a circlet of silver and on his shoulders a black cloak was draped, which sheened like mithril with his every move. Black were his garments beneath the armor as well. He held his head up with an air of arrogance and unyielding resolve. His face was stern and grim, his brow a dark line above his deep, starlit gaze, and he looked ahead in determination. Straight and poised he was seated upon his mount, and the soldiers looked to their King and their hearts were filled with courage and hope.

Next to the King rode the Prince, also clad in battle armor. However, it was lighter than the King's, as Legolas preferred ranged to melee combat and opted for a combination of leather and chainmail armor that allowed him to move more freely and with unimpeded agility. Thranduil was a close combatant, lethal with his swords, but Legolas dealt death from afar with his bow, never missing his target.

After one full day's restless march, the Elvenking and his host had covered nearly one third of the distance to Dol Guldur, and were well beyond the mountains of Mirkwood. But it was a slow and arduous march, as the wild vegetation of the forest and its narrow trails did not allow the warriors to maintain their long lines, but forced them to troop along often in single file. Scouts preceded the rest of the army, and new trails had to be blazed the farther south they got. The King's goal was to reach Thangulhad, an old elven fort just northwest of the Hill of Sorcery, by nightfall the day after the following. There the forces of Lothlorien were expected to meet and join with them, and as soon as battle plans were laid out, their attack would be launched. However, for the time being, Thranduil delivered orders to make camp and set up tents for the night, when they came into a less dense area of the forest, as dusk had fallen and the warriors were tired from the long and restless march.

A short council meeting between the Elvenking and the rest of the leaders of the allied armies took place over supper in Thranduil's tent, where tactics and strategics were discussed and decided. After that, they all retired to their own tents to rest. Silence soon fell in the camp, with only the soldiers who stood guard being awake.

The Elvenking was, too, preparing to lie down and rest. Rid of his plate armor and crown, he was dressed now in comfortable long robes. Not feeling that sleepy yet, he poured himself some wine in a goblet and moved to recline on his cot. Thoughts of the forthcoming battle formed in his mind. It was well over sixty years since he last participated in combat. His competence with a blade did not worry him, for his millennia of training had provided him with inimitable skill and vast experience to effectively face and defeat any kind of foe. It was only, perhaps, the Nazgul, that gave him a measure of concern. Never before had he encountered one, and the legend surrounding them painted them as horrid creatures and formidable opponents, who sought to take hold of and influence the mind and morale of their enemies by making use of their dark powers, which stemmed directly from the malice of Sauron himself. The Nazgul were most powerful during nighttime, and this is why Thranduil wished to avoid a battle in the dark at all costs. Inhaling deeply, he then took another sip of his wine, trying to chase away his troublesome thoughts. There was no use spending the night awake, and he needed to preserve his physical strength and, most importantly, the clarity of his mind. Downing more of his wine soon proved helpful, and his thoughts gradually started to dissipate and his worries were eased. He had just begun to relax and was on the verge of slumber, when his peace was disturbed by the ruffling of the tent's front sheet.

"Whatever it is, it can wait for tomorrow, Aeldir", he groggily said, not bothering to spare a glance or hide his annoyance, and lifted his hand to wave the intruder off.

"My lord, forgive my intrusion, but there is someone here to see you", the guard timidly said.

Thoughts of sleep abandoned his mind at once, and his previously half-lidded eyes now fluttered open. His countenance immediately became one of worry and he rose to his feet. "Who is it? Speak up!" he commanded sharply.

"It is Captain Tauriel, my lord", replied Aeldir.

The Elvenking's lips parted in astonishment, and myriads of dreadful thoughts flooded his head. "Let her in, and leave us alone", he ordered.

"Yes, my lord", the guard obeyed and left.

The next moment the red-haired elleth was entering the King's tent. She stepped inside and lowered her hood, revealing a flushed but bright face. Thranduil looked at her from head to toe. She was dressed in comfortable traveling garb in earthen hues and had a dark cloak covering her frame, while her bow hung on her shoulder and two daggers were fastened on her belt.

"What in Eru's name are you doing here, Tauriel?" he hissed and walked up to her quickly, his initial surprise having given its place to irritation now.

"Did you ever believe I could stay behind?" she asked him with an impudent smirk upon her lips.

But Thranduil was not mirthful at all. "You had express orders to remain behind!" he barked.

"I left Anneryn in my place. She is perfectly capable of leading my party for a few days", Tauriel retorted defiantly, unfazed by his severity.

Thranduil sighed in frustration and rising ire. "For a few days?" he repeated her words. "Have you any idea how long this campaign may last? You mindless, insolent, audacious child! You disobeyed my orders yet again!" His brow was furrowed and his height was looming over Tauriel.

She shrank back a little. "I told you I could not remain inactive while you fought. At least I thought you would be glad to see me".

"Glad to see you? Do you think this is a game? You had express orders to stay and guard the realm, Tauriel!" he yelled, now quite enraged, his brow trembling in indignation.

She met his furious gaze and her resolve began to collapse. An anxious glance around followed. "Please, do not shout. Let us not make this a scene for all to hear", she begged of him and her face betrayed worry, and perhaps a hint of remorse for her impulsive behavior.

Striving to contain his anger, he took a few paces away, turning his back to her, and brought his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. A thundering headache began to rise in his temples. Why did she always have to complicate things for him? He huffed, but he acknowledged she was right about the necessity of discretion.

"Do you realize how perilous a thing you did? Following the army in secret and on your own?" he scolded her as he turned to face her. "You know very well what creatures lurk in the forest. Or have you forgotten that you came across a nest and were wounded and poisoned not so long ago?" His voice sounded angry but it was also lined with concern and disappointment in her.

"But I am fine, nothing of the sort happened this time", she stated in her defense and took a few steps closer to him.

"Yes, you were lucky. But I will not tolerate such unreasonable and irresponsible behavior, do you understand?" Thranduil warned her and his gaze was intense.

"I could not stay in the halls while you were out there, fighting the orcs and the Nazgul. I would have gone mad with worry; can you not see? I wanted to fight beside you!" she cried in a choked voice and the depths of her eyes trembled.

"And now you have given _me_ one more reason to worry about. I will not only have to watch over my son, but you as well. How am I supposed to command the army if you provide me with such distraction?" he complained. "Why can you not for once in your life obey my orders? Why must you create trouble out of nowhere? I thought you had grown wise, but this behavior here is utterly childish!" he reprimanded her.

Tauriel lowered her eyes and sighed, biting on her lip. She could see he was right, and she was unhappy, for her plan had not gone as she had wished.

"I just could not bear to be parted from you", she whispered in defeat. "You left without even saying goodbye, without even sparing a glance for me, as if we were strangers. We were both embittered and stubbornly kept to ourselves, instead of seeking to solve the problem we ourselves had created. But I could not leave things as they were. I knew not how long it might be before I saw you again, and, I must confess, darker thoughts than our mere separation crossed my mind. What if something happened to you? What if you never came back to me alive?" she managed to say, tears nearly choking her voice now.

His hardened exterior broke at her heartfelt words, and sorrow descended upon his brow. He reached for her cheek, running his thumb softly along her cheekbone and brushing away a tear.

His warm touch melted the unnatural ice that had formed of late between them.

"Tauriel…"

She stepped up to him, her face only a breath from his. Her teary eyes searched his. "Forgive my insolence, please. I admit I acted thoughtlessly and on impulse, but it was just because I love you", she uttered and lowered her gaze.

Placing a finger beneath her chin, he urged her to look up. "Look at me, meleth nin".

Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his and awaited his words.

"I, too, am at fault. I should not have spoken to you so harshly. I foolishly thought it would be only through strict words that you might listen. I was wrong. I should have explained myself to you. I should have made the fears of my heart known to you", he muttered his apology.

Tauriel brought a hand to cup his cheek. "I know the fears of your heart, my love. But this is not Gundabad, and I am not Lothrin", she spoke in a soft but steady voice.

Thranduil marveled at how easily she could now read him. "Am I that transparent to you, then?"

She nodded with a small smile.

"Still, in some ways you remind me of Lothrin", he commented. "She, too, would never be content with staying back; she would always insist to march to battle by my side, and there was nothing I could do to dissuade her", he spoke on, and there was a cloud of sorrow upon his gaze.

Tauriel shifted on her feet in uneasiness, as memories of her visions came to her mind, when her lover's dead wife would visit her and guide her through memories of times long gone, wishing to help her understand, accept and love Thranduil as he was. She had also helped her understand herself, and accept her new role that was step by step taking shape.

"Had she not marched with you against Gundabad, you-"

"I would have been dead, and she would have lived", Thranduil interrupted her and gave her an intense look. "And I wish this had come to pass. That Legolas had not been robbed of his mother", he added mournfully and in a defeated tone that broke Tauriel's heart.

"Do not speak thus", she tried to hush him, and brought her hand upon his shoulder. He shivered under her touch, and a tear escaped his eye. In that moment Tauriel realized Thranduil would never truly get over his wife's passing, no matter how much he loved her and she loved him. And she found that she was not bothered by that, but embraced his reality, for it was what had shaped him into the ellon she had grown to love so fondly.

He turned his face to her and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Do you think I wish to relive such events? I would have you stay in the halls, safe and far from harm".

Tauriel's eyes seemed troubled. "I could say the same for you, that I would have you be safe always. Do you think my heart is not torn at the thought that you will be risking your life in battle?" she countered.

He shook his head. "I am King. I will do as I must. We are not in the same position, Tauriel. I have to be here, I have to lead this army. But you can avoid all peril and remain safe and sound in my halls".

A bitter smile rose upon the Captain's lips. "You cannot keep me confined in a cage, Thranduil. And furthermore, you gave me back my position in the Guard, and I go on patrols daily. Are those not dangerous? How can you allow me that, but deny me the chance to fight beside you?"

"I gave you your position back because you deserved it, and because it is what you have been trained to do all those years, Tauriel. You know the forest like the palm of your hand and how to protect yourself in it. But a battle is different, all the more a battle against forces of ancient evil like the Nazgul. I would not have you risk your life in it", he told her and grabbed her by her upper arms, looking at her under a furrowed brow. "I cannot bear to lose you".

She brought her hands to rest upon his chest, her fingertips lightly caressing him there. "My love, I understand your fear of loss. You have suffered terribly. But I am not a stranger to loss either. I lost my parents when I was a mere child, and then there was the death of Kili upon Ravenhill…" her voice trailed off.

He moved to touch her forearm. "I know. You have had your cruel share of losses as well. But you are stronger than me, Tauriel. You have never allowed your pain to consume the kindness and compassion of your heart and turn you into a living statue of ice".

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. "Will you ever cease viewing yourself thus?"

He held his breath for a moment before letting it out and casting his eyes low. "I fear I will not".

Tauriel shook her head. "But I view you differently. I see you as you are. Caring and kind and generous, with an immense capacity for love. If only it were not hindered by your distorted beliefs", she whispered soulfully.

The Elvenking sighed. "I wish I could share your insight. But the fault lies within me; it is my spirit that is distorted. And, alas, the pain is often blinding".

She tenderly stroked his hair. "No more talk of loss and pain, Thranduil. We should not invite the ghosts of the past now. It is a bad omen on the threshold of battle".

He inhaled deeply and nodded. "You are right. We should speak no more of such things".

His hand traveled upwards along her arm, reaching the gentle curve of her shoulder, and then her neck, coming to tenderly caress her cheek. Tauriel relaxed under his touch, closed her eyes and smiled softly.

"I missed you terribly", she whispered, and took a step forth, eliminating the distance between them. The warmth radiating from Thranduil's body instantly engulfed her, and sent a thrill coursing through her.

He brought his other hand on her waist and held her closer still. "I missed you too, light of my life".

His gaze was deep and intense, full of unspoken words and heavy with emotions that screamed to be expressed. Tauriel perceived his thoughts and longings, as his _fea_ desperately reached for hers. She granted him access willingly, and they both felt a surge of energy overtaking them, as their spirits intertwined.

A gasp escaped the Elvenking's lips. "I had almost forgotten this feeling… this unity, this completion…" he uttered breathlessly.

Tauriel brought her hands to cup his face. "Kiss me, mel nin", she nearly begged of him.

But he did not need a prompt. At once his lips claimed hers in a searing kiss. Soon their mouths opened for one another, allowing their tongues to tentatively touch and taste and dance their dance of passion. Thranduil's fingers threaded through Tauriel's locks, and he held her head, as he kept on kissing her hungrily. Responding to his ministrations, she pressed her body flush against his, and brought an arm around his back, embracing him.

"Oh, my love…" he managed between their kisses, and peered down at his lover through half-lidded eyes. Her emerald ones were darkened with desire, and she allowed her nimble fingers to slide down the column of his throat and beneath his robes, indicating her purpose.

Needy as she was, if not more, he lifted her in his arms and strode towards his cot, upon which he placed her, and then lowered himself beside her.

"My clothes are not exactly clean. Your sheets will be soiled", she remarked.

"I care not", he replied and kissed her once more, while his fingers already toyed with the laces of her vest.

The Captain's task was far easier; she made quick work of the cords that held her lover's robes together, and with a decisive tug they fell from his shoulders, slid off his hip and thigh, as he was propped on his side, and revealed to her the body she had missed and so dearly now craved.

Her bold moves startled him a little, and she took advantage of his momentary inertia to turn the tables. Pushing him on his back, she came to straddle his thighs, still fully clothed as she were, but a bit disheveled.

"You do not play fairly, Captain", he moaned, as she rubbed her pelvis against his, seeking the delicious friction that sent jolts of excitement along her limbs.

"I would not be here now if I abode by the rules", she answered him cheekily.

"That I know very well…" he breathed before another moan of pleasure escaped his throat. "Oh Tauriel, you will be my undoing!"

A smile of complacency curled her rosy lips. "Then let me see you come undone", she boldly teased him further, and let her hand creep between them and touch him where he most burned to be touched.

His breath was caught in his throat, and only short gasps made their way out of his mouth. "This is most unfair", he complained, as soon as he was able to form a coherent sentence. "You are still dressed, and I am at your mercy".

Tauriel looked at him intensely for a second, and then nodded. "Very well, then". Her fingers moved to the laces of her garments, and slowly she began undressing herself, allowing him to savor every moment of her erotic display.

His hungry gaze took in the magnificence of her form as it was gradually revealed to him. The hollow at the base of her throat, the fine prominence of her clavicles, her shapely arms, her round and supple breasts, her taut abdomen, the delicious curve of her hips, and the hidden treasure of her female nature. His hands moved as if they possessed a will of their own, seeking to be everywhere at once, now eliciting soft moans from Tauriel.

But she did not allow him to do as he pleased for long. Bending her back, she dropped a kiss upon his lips, and whispered in his ear, "We must be careful not to make noise. I do not imagine you would like your guards to know what transpires here".

Suddenly awoken from his reverie, his eyes darted towards the entrance of the tent. Thankfully, the tent was quite large, and the material heavy, but still it could do little to drown their sonorous moans of passion.

"You are right", he gasped. "But I will not be robbed of this chance to love you".

At that he angled his hips and partially sheathed himself inside her, catching her a little off guard, which resulted in her striving to choke back a loud gasp. It was now Thranduil's turn to smile smugly.

But soon Tauriel relaxed in his arms, and sank deeper upon him, enclosing him fully in her tantalizing warmth. He sighed against her neck, and sat up, holding her close. The two lovers soon found a steady rhythm that was pleasurable to both, and before long they met their release, which left them panting and exhausted.

Side by side they lay now in the narrow cot, and Thranduil dragged the covers up, as the chill of the night had permeated the tent and rapidly cooled their heated bodies. Tauriel lazily played with a stray strand of his hair, while he was content to simply gaze at her calm and satisfied face.

Some time passed in utter silence, until Tauriel decided to break it.

"Will you send me back?"

Those few and simple words instantly destroyed the magic of the afterglow of their lovemaking, and unforgiving reality settled in. The Captain's formerly relaxed gaze turned into one of worry, and the Elvenking sighed, knowing all too well that their talk would have to eventually come to this.

"Would you go back, if I asked you to?"

A small smile formed on her lips. "You know I would not. I did not cross all this distance just to turn back on my heel now".

"Then, since your mind is already set, why bother asking me if I intend to send you back?" His voice betrayed some irritation.

"I wanted to know your thoughts", she replied.

He sighed again and turned to lie on his back. "I told you this is not a game, Tauriel. A war is about to begin, and it will be ugly, as are all wars. Many will die, and countless more will be wounded".

"I am not afraid. Let me be there for you; let me take care of you, my love", she asked of him gently.

He turned his eyes back to her. "It seems I have no other choice", he relented. "But please, promise me to remain safe, and that you will not rush thoughtlessly where the battle is thickest. I need you to survive this. I need you to be by my side until the end of days", he asked of her in a deep and emotional voice.

She lifted her face and kissed him tenderly. "Will you promise me the same?"

He hesitated before responding, and her eyes trembled. "I told you before, Tauriel. I am King, and leader of this campaign. I must do as duty commands", he finally told her in earnest, and she could not conceal her frown of sorrow. But, in her heart, she knew he could not have given a different answer. "But you are not bound by any obligations here; so, I urge you, stay safe", he implored her once more and the intensity in his voice was great.

Tauriel nodded. "I promise I will not do anything mindless. But I also promise I will be there for you, always", she replied with determination.

He bent then his head and kissed her brow tenderly. She brought her arms around his torso and embraced him tightly. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and they remained like this for a while, before Thranduil spoke and broke the silence this time.

"Your unforeseen presence here does create an issue, though", he muttered thoughtfully, as he sat up. "What did you tell the guards of the reason of your coming?"

The Captain sat as well. "I told them I wished to see the King on reasons that were only for him to hear. I told them nothing else", she responded firmly and drew back a little, looking at him straight in the eye.

He held her gaze for a while, and then stood from the cot and moved to pick up and refill his goblet of wine, not bothering to put on his robes, despite the cilly atmosphere. "You are full of surprises, Tauriel… You may yet be rather reluctant to become a Queen, but you are already acting quite like one", he commented quietly, keeping his eyes fixed on the swirling crimson liquid, and taking a generous sip of it afterwards.

"Is this meant as a compliment or reproval?" she cautiously asked.

He turned to her with a side-smirk. "Both, perhaps".

She rolled her eyes at his answer, but could not help feeling a little amused. "I should have anticipated such a response".

His smirk widened into a smile. "We are still in the process of knowing each other, my love. Hence the mistakes we often make", he commented.

She nodded, and then sought to gather her discarded articles of clothing. "How will we explain my coming here, then? People will be asking questions".

Thranduil sighed. "They will be told you came to deliver a personal message to me, and that you could trust no other with the task. This will have to suffice".

"Alright", she acceded.

"But you cannot stay here tonight, much as I would have wished for it. The hour has already grown late. Go and seek out Alfirimbes, and tell her it is my command that you stay with the healers. I would not have you spend the night with the soldiers", he said, emphasizing the last part.

"I will do as you say".

"Yes, please, for once", he retorted in a tone that balanced between jest and seriousness, and looked at her under a raised brow.

Her soft chuckle warmed his heart, and then she stepped up to him and chastely kissed his lips. He responded in the same manner, not resisting to hold her in his arms once again.

Tauriel breathed in his scent deeply, allowing his essence to fill her. "And what of my role in the forthcoming battle? Please, let me be by your side. It is not in my nature to stay back with the healers".

He looked into her eyes. "So be it, then. We shall draw swords together. And, by the Valar, I pray I will not regret this decision of mine".

"You will not", she spoke in confidence and her eyes gleamed. She then raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him one last time. "I should be going now".

"Yes…" he breathed, unwillingly detaching his naked form from her arms.

"Good night, Thranduil".

He nodded, and she strode out of his tent.

A shudder rocked him as soon as he was left alone. He peered around at the emptiness of his tent, and worry crept again in his heart. Slowly he walked to his cot and lay down. The sheets still bore her scent, and he allowed himself to relax in her memory that was still so vivid. As he closed his eyes, he prayed once more he would not come to regret his decision.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

It took the army of the free peoples three more days to reach Thangulhad, the predetermined place of their meeting. Night had already fallen when they at last arrived there. Lothlorien's forces had come a bit earlier, and were already camped, when their allies joined with them.

Thangulhad was not a massive fortress and lay mostly in ruin, but it was built upon a mound, and thus had an advantageous view of the Hill of Sorcery and its ominous black towers. The Elvenking had chosen this location specifically for this feature, as he wished no move of the enemy to pass unnoticed. Wide walls surrounded Thangulhad, and their south and east parts still stood intact, while in the north and west disuse and abandonment had led them to be almost entirely swallowed by the invading forest. So, there upon the good parts of the wall guards and archers were stationed, while the rest of the army made camp in the courtyard and among the crumbled towers.

After the Elvenking was done delivering orders to his subordinates concerning the accommodation and duties of his warriors, he called a war council among the army leaders in his tent. Soon enough, there stood Prince Brand of Dale, Prince Thorin of Erebor, Elladan of Rivendell and Haldir of Lorien. Legolas was also there, standing beside his father. All of them were dressed in battle armor, and their weapons of choice were at their sides. Around a table they stood, and upon it a large map of the area was unfolded. Of course, as it would have been expected of Thranduil, each of those present had been offered a goblet of wine. The Elvenking presided over them and took the floor first.

"My esteemed friends and allies, thank you for answering my summons and marching with me in this war against the forces of evil. But fret not, for I will not tire you with unnecessary prologues", he began, and a small smile graced his otherwise serious countenance. "Forgive me for robbing you of a chance to rest, but time is of the essence; the enemy already knows of our presence here, as my scouts have informed me, and is preparing to meet us in battle. I called this meeting here right upon our arrival, because our basic strategy needs to be decided. Who would wish to speak?"

Thorin cleared his throat. "If I may, my lords. It is my persuasion that we must attack at dawn. We should not sit idly in our tents and wait for the enemy to draw first blood".

Glances and nods were exchanged then. "I agree", said Elladan. "As soon as the day breaks, we should attack. Three Nazgul hide in this black fortress, and, as it is known, they are weaker during daytime, when the light of the sun is shining. We should not give them the chance to use their full powers in the dark".

"But does this not leave us with quite a few hours of waiting? What if the Nazgul choose to come against us now, that night has fallen and they are strong?" Brand wondered.

Thranduil waved his hand in dismissal. "I consider this rather unlikely. Before attacking us, the wraiths would have to muster their unorderly orcish hordes, and also lay out battle plans. This will certainly take them a few hours, in the least".

Brand nodded, realizing the King of Mirkwood was right. Haldir then spoke. "Then little remains to be said about the hour of our attack. It seems we are all agreed upon dawn". A look at his interlocutors solidified his point. "Battle formations should now be discussed".

"Yes. We shall array before the western slope of the hill. It is where the entrance to the fortress is located", Thranduil proposed. "I have good memory of the place, for it once used to be our abode. And even though it has since long succumbed to the forces of evil, and they use it for their own dark purposes, the architecture of the place itself has not changed, save perhaps for its horrid state of decay and degradation", he said with a sigh. "The outer wall is crumbled for the most part, and no attempts of repair have ever been made; it will not pose a hindrance to us. I believe we shall enter the baileys of Dol Guldur easily enough".

"And that is where the swarms of orcs and wargs, and perhaps even spiders, are expected to be the thickest", Legolas added. "I believe the main part of the battle will be fought in the baileys of Dol Guldur".

"We will station our forces there then, and we will kill all the filth that may come against us", spoke the dwarven Prince with determination. "A few orcs will never scare a dwarf!"

Smiles rose on the others' faces, and they were reminded of the fearlessness and bravery of the sturdy dwarven race. Thranduil was glad that the dwarves of Erebor had marched with them. "That is encouraging to hear, master dwarf", he said with genuine kindness. "Well, then. The majority of the footmen will face the orcs in the baileys. This means your men will stand with the dwarves, Prince Brand. You must retain close communication and cooperation with Prince Thorin".

"Yes, of course, my King Thranduil", Brand acceded. "My men are resolved to do their duty and be worthy of their ancestors".

"Good", Thranduil said. Then he turned to the leader of the Galadhrim. "Haldir, yours are the keenest archers of our army. Lead them around the fortress, and station them at places amongst the ruins, where they can make best use of their ranged abilities. But, in order to be successful, you must do this in as much secrecy as possible. You shall wait for the main battle to engage, and then you shall make your move. Do you disagree?"

"Not at all, my lord Elvenking. It is what I had in mind as well. The Galadhrim will deliver death upon silver arrows to our enemies", he said and smiled wickedly, feeling the excitement of combat rising up in his heart.

Thranduil smiled and nodded. "The main portion of my forces, as well as Elladan's, shall stay and fight in the baileys. But, eventually, the Nazgul will emerge, and they will need to be faced", he said, his face now turning grimmer.

"A dwarf is not afraid of a formless wraith!" cried Thorin. "Let them come!"

"I appreciate your fervor, my good Prince. But the Nazgul are forces of ancient evil, and we elves are, by nature, more perceptive towards them and their powers. We will be able to sense their presence instantly, and that is why we should be the ones facing them".

Thorin gazed at him thoughtfully. "What is your plan, then, Elvenking?"

"Elladan and myself, with select members of our forces, should draw the attention and face the wraiths, while the rest of you wear out and eliminate their swarms of orcs", replied he, not without a measure of apprehension gripping his heart. For, although he was a mighty and ancient elf, his _fea_ was tainted by evil, and he harbored doubts as to whether he would be truly able to face and withstand the dark powers of the Nazgul. He knew he was no Gil-Galad, and no Elrond even. As much as he despised the Noldor, he could not but acknowledge the inferiority of the Sindar. And his was a tainted Sindarin spirit, no less. Still, he kept these unsettling thoughts to himself, as knew he had no other choice but to stand at the helm of the hardest part of this expedition. Not a hint of worry did he allow to seep through to the surface, and he now looked at the other leaders with a stern and unyielding expression.

"The Elvenking speaks right. This is a task that falls upon our shoulders to carry out", the elf of Rivendell agreed.

"It does not sound like an easy task", Brand remarked thoughtfully.

"It is not, but we must perform it nonetheless", replied Thranduil, and let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

Legolas glanced at him, and concern was lining his fine features, for he suspected his thoughts. Still, he wisely chose to remain silent, for he knew better that to question his father publicly.

"Now then, it seems to me we have our basic plans laid out. I suggest we take some rest and reconvene in a few hours, right before we march off", spoke Thorin, shifting upon his feet.

"Yes. Go now and relay the orders to your Commanders, and make sure your warriors are ready in time. Eat, bathe, rest. Prepare your bodies and spirits for the battle ahead, for it will require the best each of us, and each race has to offer. The time is come when the steadfast resolve of men, the tirelessness and bravery of dwarves and the wisdom and power of the elves shall be called forth to shine and prevail over evil and malice. I put my faith and my hope in you and your soldiers, my friends. For in this dark hour even former enemies may set their old grievances aside and unite. So friends I name you from this day forth", the Elvenking spoke fervently and looked at everyone around him, his deep eyes blazing with the flame of purpose. He was met with resolute gazes and fond smiles, and he could see his own fervor reflected in the faces of the others. Profoundly satisfied with the effect his words had had on his allies, he then drew a little back, straightening his spine and brought his hands together. "So it will be then. I shall expect you again here one hour before daybreak", he finally announced, and then proceeded to raise his goblet. "To battle, and to victory".

"To victory!" they all cried in unison.

* * *

There was little for Tauriel to do, staying in the healers' tent, and waiting for the war council to end. She offered to help the healers with their preparations – they began setting up cots to receive the wounded, and they also readied mixtures of herbs they would be using – but they did not really want her in their way. So, after idly watching them for some time, she decided to leave the tent and walk around the camp for a while.

The night air was chill and a half moon was shining. The young Captain welcomed the crisp atmosphere, glad to be out of the stuffy tent. No fires were lit, so as not to attract the enemy's attention, but she could still see around her. The moonlight was enough for her elven eyes. The camp was vast, covering the entire courtyard, and anywhere she looked, she could see tents, others standing in plain sight and others partially hidden by the ruins. A few banners were erected, signifying each army's campsite, and the wind that whipped against them produced an uninvited sound that disrupted the silence of the night. Thousands of warriors had descended upon Dol Guldur; Tauriel's heart filled with hope. With such a force, how could they not win? What could ever stand in their way?

Climbing swiftly upon the western wall, she glanced in the distance, where the black fortress stood atop the hill. It looked even more foreboding in the night, as the pale moonlight cast long shadows beneath the towers, making them look more sinister than they already were, but the Captain noticed Dol Guldur was not silent anymore. There were flickers of light here and there, reflecting upon the walls and the steep winding stairs, as if they were coming from a place underground. _The enemy is moving; they are preparing_ , she thought, and her heart took up a faster beat on its own. _Who knows what goes on beneath that fortress... Surely our enemies will come against us with all their might. Their hatred has been brewing for far too long. But the time is come now. This is it; we are here, and the war is about to begin. Only a few hours more and…_

"Tauriel?"

A pleasant, female voice brought her out of her musings. She turned her eyes to the direction of it only to see Elhedril, the elf from Haldir's company.

"Elhedril!"

The elf of Lorien approached her quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you here Captain. How are you faring?"

"I am well, my friend. But I cannot seem to find rest on the eve of battle", Tauriel responded, not bothering to hide the unease that had come upon her.

"I cannot either. That is why I asked Haldir to have me stationed as an archer on the wall tonight. I thought the night's cool air might calm my senses, but it has proved futile so far", Elhedril explained.

"I understand. There is not much for us to do until the war council is over. But I am glad you are here now, so that we can spend some time in friendly companionship. It is not a good time to be lonely", Tauriel commented and offered the other a small smile.

The guard nodded, and they began walking side by side. "How is the morale in your camp?" she asked.

"It is high; the soldiers are eager to fight. As am I; though, I must confess, I do feel a bit wary. I have faced orcs and spiders countless times before, but the Nazgul are something entirely different…" replied the Captain.

"Yes, I suppose they are. My fighting experience is far lesser than yours, seeing that there are not really any substantial threats to face in Lorien, and I have not taken part in a battle before. But still, I asked Haldir to allow me to join the force. He was reluctant, and I almost had to beg him before he relented", Elhedril said.

A curious look rose now on Tauriel's face. "Might I ask, why this persistency? Why not stay back in Lorien, where you would be safe and protected by the Lady's grace?"

Inwardly, she felt a bit weird for asking these questions to her friend, for she could suspect the reason Elhedril had wished to go to war. The guard's motives must have been exactly the same as the Captain's. She watched her face now and awaited the confirmation.

Elhedril took a deep breath. "I wanted to have the chance to see your Commander, and stand beside him, if I can", she confessed.

Tauriel's eyes gleamed in understanding and sympathy for the lovelorn elf, and a warm smile curled her lips. She brought her hand to touch the other's arm gently, and said, "I see… And I feel for you. Love can lead us to make the most improbable decisions, and follow the riskiest courses of action".

Elhedril peered deep in the Captain's eyes, and she saw her own motives and sentiments reflected there. "Something tells me your reasons for coming here are not that different from mine, Tauriel", she commented.

A nervous chuckle left Tauriel's lips. "You are quite perceptive, mellon nin".

"It is a trait inherent to all elves, it would seem. Come now, will you not tell me who has won your affection?" she asked impatiently. "Is it perhaps my Commander, Haldir? For he spoke very fondly of you after you left Lorien".

The Captain's face was graced with a faint smile at that, as fond memories of Lorien flooded her mind. Haldir had indeed confessed his feelings for her, so Elhedril's words now surprised her not. "So he did speak of me after all…" she murmured, apparently lost in thought, with the smile still not gone from her lips.

"Tauriel?" the other elf tried to gain her attention again. "Is it him, then?"

Tauriel's eyes darted back to Elhedril, and she shook her head and sighed. "No, my friend… It is not Haldir. I am afraid the issue is rather… complicated", she muttered.

The guard now looked at her with concern. "Complicated? Do you pine for someone… unavailable?" she carefully asked.

Tauriel smiled at her assumption. "No, not unavailable. He is simply our King", she finally confessed, for a moment not believing her ears for letting the secret out. _But on the eve of battle one could feel more vulnerable and might look to confide in friends,_ she thought, seeking to justify her choice to reveal her secret and dismissed her instant regret for telling Elhedril about her love.

"Oh…" Elhedril gasped, but uttered no word, for she knew not how to respond to this unexpected piece of information.

A few moments of silence passed between them, before Tauriel decided to speak, feeling she owed her friend a brief explanation. "I told you it is complicated, although he has feelings for me as well. You see, he is the King and I am a simple guard. Not to mention our vastly different personalities…" she said, smiling to herself. "He is silent and secretive whereas I am an open book to read. But he knows how to rein in his emotions, while I am prone to outbursts and overstepping my bounds".

"The King of the Woodland Realm has a reputation for being rather distant, stern and unyielding. But is he truly so?" Elhedril wondered.

"To some extent, yes. This is the face he shows the world. But I have come to know him deeply; I know the burdens of his soul and his long suffering, and I can tell you, my friend, that I have never known a love more sincere, profound and everlasting than Thranduil's", Tauriel replied, and the light of the stars shone now in her eyes. "But only a few people know of our love. So, please, Elhedril, I beseech you, keep what I have told you tonight to yourself".

"Of course, of course…" the other hastily answered. "Forgive me for asking these questions in the first place. I could never imagine…"

"There is nothing to forgive, my friend. My situation is not of your making, and I know there was no malicious intent in your question", Tauriel told her and smiled reassuringly. "Perhaps, if we survive this war and live to see sunnier days, we may talk about this further. But I fear now is not the time for such a conversation, with the shadow looming above our heads. It feels wrong to speak of love in the face of evil".

"Or perhaps it is the only way to counter it", Elhedril boldly remarked, and her honey-brown eyes shone.

Tauriel looked at her in amazement, suddenly feeling inspired by her words. "I pray to the Valar you are right. Now, would you like to see your beloved? I happen to know where his tent is".

Elhedril gasped. "Would it not seem improper if I just walked there? And I could not abandon my post here…"

"Do not worry about it. I will remain here in your stead. Sleep will not come to me tonight, anyway. Tomorrow we will be placing our lives on the line, my friend. We may never get a chance to see our loved ones again. I say, considering that, nothing is improper", she told her and lightly squeezed her arm. "Shall I take you there, then? What say you?"

Elhedril's eyes glistened with enthusiasm, but she shook her head. "As much as I wish to say yes, I cannot ask of you to do what you proposed. I was stationed here – nay, I asked to be stationed here – and it is my duty to remain here".

A small smile of compassion curled Tauriel's lips. "Ever the honorable one you are. But I am one to often break the rules. I understand that you do not wish to abandon your post. How about this then: we share it. Surely it would do no harm if you borrowed a couple of hours to see Tinuven. I can stay here, and then you may return to resume your duties. Well?"

Elhedril contemplated the offer for a few moments, weighing her loyalty to Haldir against her desire to be reunited with her beloved. Tauriel raised an eyebrow in anticipation. At long last the temptation proved the greater force. "Alright then. Show me to his tent!"

* * *

Tauriel's heart was glad to have met and helped Elhedril. It made her feel warm inside to know that her friend had blissfully enjoyed the company of her loved one, and the small conversation they shared had helped her turn her thoughts away from the forthcoming battle.

She was now walking away from the wall, as the Lorien elf had just returned to her post, and was moving towards Thranduil's tent. As soon as she got there, she saw many guards stationed outside, and elves came and went carrying satchels and documents. She paused in her step, deciding not to approach further. _Clearly there will be no rest for him tonight,_ she thought sorrowfully. _There is so much that requires the attention of the King on the eve of a battle._ Not wishing to be seen lingering outside his tent, she willed her feet to take her away from there and towards the healers' tent. Perhaps she could try and get some rest after all.

Things seemed quieter there, and the commotion of the earlier hours had somewhat died down. A quick look around informed her that everything was mostly in place now, and readied for the aftermath of the battle. Tauriel could not suppress the chill that ran down her spine at the thought that tomorrow, at this very hour, things would be looking much different here, and these tents will be crowded with wounded soldiers and frantic healers.

But the chill left her as suddenly as it had come, and she was soon welcomed by the warmth of the tent's interior. The air was now fragrant with athelas, giving the place a feeling of freshness and cleanliness. The leader of the healers, Alfirimbes, was there, seated on a plain wooden stool, and had her head propped on her hand, looking clearly tired. Her long dress was somewhat ruffled, and the hem was covered in dust. She had removed her apron, and it was now unceremoniously resting beside her in a bundle.

"My lady", Tauriel greeted her, and she lifted her eyes.

"Hello, Tauriel", the older elleth smiled. "How has your walk been? You must have been gone for hours…" she mused.

The Captain approached her and sat on an identical stool opposite her. "I took some air, and also met a friend from Lorien".

"Is not the air stifling outside? I have had feelings of disquiet ever since we neared Dol Guldur. That fortress taints the air, the ground, the forest… everything around it", the healer commented mournfully and sighed.

"Yes, it is so… And it is time we put an end to its dominion", Tauriel said.

"Do you truly believe we will succeed? This place has been a stronghold of the enemy for far too long. I doubt they will so easily relinquish it", she went on in the same pessimistic manner.

"They will not, for sure. Still, we must fight".

"So much death… So much elven blood will be spilled again". Another sigh followed her words, and in Tauriel's ears they echoed Thranduil's own views. He had always loathed leading his people to war that caused the death of so many immortal lives. "How many more of our people must die before this land is free of evil?" Alfirimbes bitterly wondered.

"I understand your viewpoint, my lady. But some things can only be won through sacrifice. If we do nothing, the shadow will only keep growing stronger", the Captain responded fervently.

"Ah, you sound like my son".

Tauriel was startled by the unexpected mention of the healer's son, who was no other than Tinuven. Her heart then softened, because she realized that, in truth, Alfirimbes feared very much for him.

"My lady, your son, as all of us, will do his duty", she spoke quietly.

"I know he will, the pigheaded ellon that he is", she remarked and snorted.

"He may be a little stubborn, but he is brave and kind. And he also loves you very much", Tauriel told her softly and smiled.

Her words caused the stern elleth before her to lift an elegant brow in question. "You speak as if you know him well".

"I have recently gotten to know him a little, yes. We accompanied our King to Erebor, Dale and Lorien for the negotiations. And even though we had initially been wary towards each other, in the end I came to consider him a friend", the Captain explained.

"You became friends with Tinuven? That is a surprise. You see, he has ever been a lonesome and friendless child, who preferred his solitude to the company of others", the healer said. "Apparently joining the army has done him some good, forcing him to interact with others and open up a bit", she added with a weird smile.

Tauriel was unsure of how to respond to her words, so she simply said, "I can assure you he is a fine and just ellon, and a respected Commander".

"It must have been a difficult task to fill his father's shoes…" Alfirimbes commented thoughtfully. "But it gladdens my heart to hear these words from you".

"You are proud of him", Tauriel threw in a pointed comment, and watched the other's face, as she remembered Tinuven's words of how he and his mother had been estranged of late.

"I am glad that he is successful in the career and way of life he has chosen", the healer replied rather evasively. "Still, I have never wished for him to follow in his father's steps. I tried to dissuade him from joining the military, but to no avail; he would not listen. Now, I can only hope that he will not meet his father's fate as well", she spoke from her heart, and fought back a sob that threatened to disrupt her collected appearance.

"I can understand your fears, my lady. But worry not; lord Tinuven is a skilled warrior. He will not be brought down so easily by mere orcs", Tauriel tried to soothe her, and lightly touched her shoulder.

Alfirimbes momentarily closed her eyes, and shook her head, her raven-black tresses, which were the exact same color as Tinuven's, caressing her shoulders. "This is what they used to say about my husband, too", she said bitterly. "And he fell before the gates of Erebor, some sixty years ago. So, forgive me, my young elleth, for not paying heed to such words of comfort. It is not that I do not appreciate them; but I have simply seen too much to allow myself to be deceived. There is nothing one can do to ward off death with absolute certainty; one can only hope".

Tauriel fell silent, as she contemplated the healer's words, which were harsh, but also true. There was no guarantee they would survive this war and turn back home alive. She could now understand better Thranduil's firm objections to her joining this campaign, and sadness nestled in her heart, for she realized she had placed yet another burden upon his shoulders.

At that moment, a soldier appeared in the entrance. "My lady Alfirimbes", he called.

"Yes?" she responded and stood.

"Our King sent me here to let you know the attack will be launched at dawn, and he wishes to know whether you are ready", he spoke.

"You may tell him that we are ready indeed. Go, child, and may the Valar be with us all", Alfirimbes said, and saw the young soldier off.

Tauriel watched this brief exchange, and then stood as well, making for the exit. "My lady", she addressed Alfirimbes, and she looked at her. "There is something I need to do. I must bid you goodnight now".

The experienced healer peered deep into her eyes, and slowly smiled. "I know. It is hard to be alone on the eve of battle. Go and be with the one your heart yearns for. I know he would wish for nothing else now", she spoke, and puzzlement came upon Tauriel's features. Alfirimbes then turned and walked inside.

Her words played in Tauriel's head as she quickly made for Thranduil's tent. Was it possible that she knew of their affair?

And then it hit her. Alfirimbes had been the one to tend to her, when she had been poisoned by the spider, and she had witnessed Thranduil's frequent visits to her room, his agony and the sleepless nights he spent at her bedside. It was only reasonable she had understood the feelings he had for his Captain. Alfirimbes was no fool, after all. On the contrary, she was intelligent and very perceptive. There was no way this could have ever escaped her.

Perhaps it was an odd thing to think in the face of battle, but Tauriel was glad to have found yet another who knew of her romance and was not opposed to it. As she approached her destination, she could not help but wonder whether such things would matter at all after tomorrow.

* * *

Thranduil was relieved to at last be alone – or almost alone, seeing that Legolas remained in his father's tent. He had spent every single minute since they set camp speaking to the other leaders and his Commanders, delivering orders, answering questions and solving problems. Now he was feeling weary, and all he wanted was to lie down and rest.

Father and son retreated to the inner chamber of the tent, which was quieter and warmer. The Prince, who had also been quite busy himself during the day, poured wine in two goblets and passed one to the King. Then he sat in a chair, as Thranduil reclined on his cot.

"At last, we can have some peace", the Elvenking murmured, and then took the first sip of his wine, relishing the sweet taste and allowing it to revive his senses from the inside.

"It has been a toilsome day", Legolas commented. "I am glad it is over".

"So am I, son. But I will be gladder when this war is over".

"I am afraid it has only just begun", the young elf said with a half-smile.

"Ah, I know, I know… I only wish it will be over soon…" Thranduil mused and closed his eyes.

Legolas observed him in silence for a while. His face seemed careworn, laden with the weight of countless responsibilities and even more worries. His dark brow was slightly furrowed, and his mouth drawn into a thin line. He looked a bit paler than usual, and his cheeks hollower beneath his cheekbones. _This campaign is already taking its toll on him, more than he lets out,_ Legolas thought.

"Ada? Are you feeling alright?" he asked in genuine care.

Thranduil opened his eyes and looked at his son. "I am well, ion nin".

"You do look tired. I should let you sleep. There is only a few hours left until dawn, and you have to preserve your strength", the Prince said and stood from his chair. "I will not deny I feel rather tired myself", he added and stretched his arms in a yawn.

The Elvenking sat up in his bed. "I doubt sleep will come easily to me tonight, for I cannot chase the thought of the forthcoming battle from my mind. We are prepared, and yet there is still much to be done. If only our strategy proves effective…"

"It is a sound plan, ada", the younger elf tried to reassure him.

Thranduil nodded thoughtfully. "I do hope it is. But the enemy is cunning. The Nazgul are not to be trifled with. Please, my son, my only son, stay close to me tomorrow", he said in a deep voice, as he stood.

Legolas smiled softly. "Father, I am not a child to be watched over and taken care of all the time".

"To me, you will always be my child, my little leaf. We have wasted so many years, but no more. So, please, do as I say and remain beside me during the battle", he repeated his plea.

"Alright then. Someone needs to watch over you, too, after all", the Prince said with a smirk.

"I fear Tauriel is adamant in keeping that role for herself", Thranduil sighed.

"It was too bold of her to follow the army in secret. But then again, I would have expected nothing less from her", Legolas commented.

A small smile rose on the King's face. "Yes… She has a tendency for insubordination and rash actions".

"She has always been like that. But this time, she did it all for you. As you said, she wants to make sure you are unharmed. It seems such things, such decisions and actions are inevitable, where love is concerned", spoke the Prince.

"Indeed. And that is why she escaped punishment for her disobedience this time", Thranduil said, raising an eyebrow. "I just could not send her back. Even if I tried, she would still find a way to evade my orders".

"My lord King, my Prince", a guard spoke, appearing in the entrance, and interrupted their conversation.

"What is it, Aeldir?" Thranduil asked him half-heartedly.

"Forgive my intrusion, my lords. Captain Tauriel is here and asks to see you, my lord King", said Aeldir.

Thranduil took a deep breath and glanced at his son, who in turn glanced back at him. "Alright, show her in".

The guard bowed and left, and soon Tauriel walked inside. Father and son looked at her as she approached them.

"Thranduil", she began, and then noticed Legolas as well. "Oh, Legolas, you are here, too", she spoke a bit nervously.

The Prince smiled. "Hello, Tauriel. You caught me right on my way out", he tactfully offered. "My father needs his rest".

Tauriel looked at Thranduil, and he did seem rather weary to her. "I did not mean to disturb you, my lord", she said quietly.

"You are not disturbing me, Tauriel", he told her softly, and motioned for her to walk closer to him.

Legolas took this as a prompt to be on his way. "I bid you both goodnight. I will see you at the battlefront tomorrow".

"Rest well, ion nin", said the King.

"Good night, my friend", Tauriel wished him and smiled.

At that Legolas left, and the pair was left alone.

Tauriel turned to look at Thranduil, whose eyes were trained on her. He then stepped up to her and spread his arms, inviting her in an embrace. She did not hesitate a moment, but at once threw herself in his arms. He was warm against her, and she felt all her cares disappear.

"Meleth nin", he breathed in her hair.

"I missed you, my love", she whispered to him.

"So did I", he said, and wove his fingers through her hair. He then bent his head, as she looked up at him, and kissed her slowly and deeply, wishing to make every moment last forever.

What he did next was take her by the hand and lead her to his cot, where they sat. "The hour has grown late. It will be dawn in a few hours", he murmured, as he lightly caressed her hand.

"Then let us make best use of every moment".

She moved to push him backwards on the mattress, so that he lay on his back, and she lowered herself beside him. Holding his face, she initiated a kiss, and he eagerly responded, pulling her closer.

"Stay with me tonight", Thranduil asked of her.

"But people will talk. It is improper", she objected.

He shook his head, as he propped himself on one elbow. "I care not. Today we live; who knows what tomorrow will bring".

Understanding his notion, she nodded, and then snaked her arms around his torso. Tomorrow they would be fighting for their lives. Given that, everything else seemed so trivial and unimportant. _Let the people talk,_ Tauriel thought. They would face them in time, as long as they came out of this alive.

Thranduil wasted no time, but moved on top of her. Similar thoughts were going on in his head. All he cared about now was to be with his beloved, to love her and be loved by her, to become one with her. He only wished it would not be their last time together. And this wish fueled his passion further, leading him to hungrily crave his lover's touch and making him impatient to show her how much he wanted her.

Tauriel's response was to breathlessly kiss him and cling to him, pulling him towards her with fervor. Equal in her zeal, she guided him to enter her, and she gasped when he did, for he loved her with despair and abandon, grunting and gasping with each thrust, and she panted and moaned under him. And continuously the same thought returned in her hazy mind: if only this is not their last time.

Sweat broke on his forehead, for he agonizingly chased his release, and he mercilessly kept thrusting in and out of her. She dug her nails in the skin of his back, and her breath now came in short gasps, as tension kept building in her loins. _If only this is not our last time…_ He quickened the pace, whispering her name now. "Come for me, my love", he asked her, out of breath, and flushed with exertion.

His words of passion and the look of him so close to his ecstasy pushed her over the edge, and she shattered beneath him, clenching violently around him, with his name on her lips. He followed soon afterwards, tensing like a bowstring and releasing his essence inside her. His world blacked out for a few fleeting seconds, during which nothing existed by his lover and he.

They collapsed next to each other afterwards, breathless and sated, with their limbs carelessly tangled, and their hearts beating alive.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I want you to know that I love you, deeply and wholly. Our love is what keeps me going, it is what motivates me to be the better version of myself, to try and leave my ways of isolation and cruelty behind… Still, I am very much flawed, and I have more often than not hurt you with my behavior… But my love for you is sincere and unwavering, Tauriel. Please, remember that always", Thranduil whispered to her in a nearly broken voice, as tears glistened in the corners of his eyes.

She raised her hand to tenderly caress his cheek. "I know. And I love you, too, Thranduil. The love I feel for you I have not felt for anyone before. True enough, we have both made many mistakes and hurt each other. But this does not lessen our love. I can only feel it growing stronger with each passing day".

He sighed, and draped his arm around her waist. She hugged him in return, and nestled her face in the hollow of his throat. His steady heartbeat comforted her, and she allowed herself to get lost in his presence, in his warmth, in the safety of his embrace. Words of love had been spoken, confessions had been made; no issue remained unresolved now, and, if nothing else, they had the love of each other to hold on to.

Silent and motionless as they were, exhaustion soon took over them, and both fell in a deep slumber, as it often happens in those cases of great toil, when at last the body relaxes and sleep finally descends.

* * *

When Tauriel awoke, she saw Thranduil standing in the middle of the room and putting on his battle armor. A few candles were lit upon a table; other than that, the room was still dark, and she realized it was not dawn yet. Shadows were cast on his face, yet she could tell he looked grave, but committed to his cause.

Instinctively, the Elvenking glanced at her, and his silver gaze met her emerald one. "You are awake", he said.

"Yes… And you are almost ready", she observed.

"A war council is to be held in a while", he briefly explained.

"I see", she said and moved out of the bed, reaching for her clothes. "I will be off as soon as I am dressed".

He watched her fumbling with her garments for a short while, and his heart sang with love for her. He adored her still sleepy gaze, the contrast of her fiery locks against her ivory skin, the curves and dimples of her body as they were accentuated by the dim candlelight. He then hastily clasped his cloak on his shoulders and walked closer to her. She had only just put on her tunic. "Come here", he spoke softly and took her in his arms.

Tauriel melted against him and closed her eyes, inhaling his scent deeply. Her front came in contact with the hard and cool metal of his breastplate, and she shivered, remembering how warm his skin had been last night.

Thranduil held her, also missing the feel of her pliant body against his. They stayed like this for a while, neither of them willing to part from the other and destroy their final sweet moment. But in the end Thranduil proved to be more strong-willed, and he pulled back, holding her now by the shoulders.

"You must finish dressing, my love".

With that he dropped his hands, and made to pick up his swords. Tauriel watched him as he fastened them at his sides, and as he then put on his silver circlet. He was now ready, a mighty Elvenking to march into battle.

"It is time, then", she murmured.

He gazed at her deeply, engraving her image in his memory, and allowed a sigh to escape his lips.

"It is time".


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It was daybreak, and although the blackness of the night was broken, no golden sunrays fell on the ground. The light that shone through the heavy clouds and reflected on the bare rock was cold and dim and darkened. It was the heart of the spring, but under a grey, sunless sky fought the warriors, as dark clouds ever seemed to loom over the black fortress of Dol Guldur. The shadow of evil arose there and expanded over the vast forest in every direction.

"Leithio i philinn!"

 _Release the arrows._ Thranduil's command echoed across the low, barren hills, as the first wave of orcs stormed out of Dol Guldur's outer gates, and a thousand elven arrows flew against them. Several of the hideous creatures were felled, but many more followed, replenishing their numbers.

"Leithio!"

With the sword held high and his brow furrowed in tension, he repeated the command. Another volley of arrows succeeded the first, and then another, until the orcs reached their assailants, screaming in their horrid voices and wielding their crude and appalling weapons, engaging now in close combat.

Bows were put aside, and swords were drawn and spears were thrusted, littering the rock with fresh blood. To the front fought the Elvenking, relentless in his fury, and the orcs fled before his wrath. Tauriel and Legolas were close to him, driving their daggers into the orcs' throats and bellies.

As it had been expected, the army of the free peoples was met with no great difficulty making past the great iron gates of the fortress and entering its first compartment. Tall, black towers loomed right and left, allowing crooked passages in-between. Bridges made of rock and iron spanned great distances far above the soldiers' heads, and from everywhere the terrible Nazgul's banners were hung. Thranduil's heart cried in protest to see the defilement of what had once been his home, and bottomless rage and hatred fueled his purpose.

There the army of dwarves and men made their stand. They had been tasked with the assault on the baileys, and had to face the endless masses of the enemies there. Thorin Stonehelm led his warriors towards the north, and Brand positioned his men to the south. Swords and spears at the ready, the attacking orcs and wargs stood little chance against the brave warriors of those two northern kingdoms.

At around the same time, Haldir's company appeared in the rear, dressed in their grey cloaks and holding their majestic bows, the best weapon for the finest archers in Middle Earth. Soon they broke off the main body of the army, and Haldir led them over the crumbled walls, along the rampart. Swift they were in their step, and the crude orcish arrows could do them little harm. Now they hid high amongst the ruins, and began a relentless downpour of arrows against their foes.

Seeing that his allies had resumed their positions, a wild enthusiasm rose in Thranduil's heart. The plan was going well. This was it; they could do it.

"Press on!" he cried over the clamor of the battle and raised his bloodied sword, pointing forward.

Tauriel caught a glimpse of him, and the steel in his eyes matched the steel of his weapon. Her heart fluttered in excitement. He was her King and her lover, and she felt safe to fight by his side, his unwavering resolve a beacon of hope and strength to look to. She quickly dispatched an orc, slicing its throat with her dagger and bathing her chainmail armor in its blood.

"Tinuven! Lead your company over the eastern slope!" the Elvenking yelled his orders sharply. "We shall meet at the gates of the main tower! Purge this place of the filth, in the name of Elbereth Gilthoniel!" he cried.

Obeying his orders, Tinuven and his band of soldiers broke off. "My warriors, follow me!" Thranduil shouted once more and pressed onward, along the main pathway.

But now the enemy regrouped, and the orcs were soon joined by wargs and also spiders. The latter gave the elves a greater challenge, attacking them with their nippers and poisonous stings. The spiders climbed on the walls, seeking to attack the Galadhrim, and causing their rain of arrows to somewhat diminish.

The rabid wargs attacked with claws and teeth, and orcs rode on their backs. The dwarves and men stood bravely against them, but keeping them at bay was not an easy feat. Elladan's company dispatched many of them in their way, but their advance had been dramatically decelerated. Soon, the ground below was sown with corpses; orcs, wargs and spiders mostly, but now elves and men and dwarves could be seen amongst them as well.

The battle raged on for hours, and the forces seemed rather equally balanced, until at last the army of the free peoples managed to claim the outer baileys of the fort. But holding them was a difficult task, as enemies kept pouring out of the cesspits of Dol Guldur and seemed endless in their numbers.

A screech then tore the air, making everyone's blood freeze in their veins.

Thranduil turned his eyes to the top of the highest Tower, where he saw a black shadow perched and looming over them, biding its time to attack.

 _So, the Nazgul have at last chosen to appear,_ he thought gravely, for he knew the critical part of the battle would be the fight against the wraiths.

"Onward!" he yelled, wishing to inspire courage in the hearts of his warriors. "The Nazgul must be driven from Amon Lanc!"

One of his Commanders then ran to him. It was Feren. "My lord King! Our forces are not enough to hold this point and also press forward! I suggest we stand our ground here and decimate the foes that come against us!" he advised, nearly out of breath, but speaking reasonably.

A disheveled and gory Elvenking turned to face him, irritation and discontent obvious in his bearing. His eyes shot up once more to where he had seen the shadowed figure, but now it had vanished.

"Orcs, wargs and spiders will keep pouring out from the bowels of Dol Guldur if we do not take down their leaders! The Nazgul are dominating their minds and ushering them against us! And one of them was up there", he cried and raised his sword towards the direction of the tall tower. "I saw it watching the battle. We must not give it time to prepare its attack!"

"But my lord, our force is not large enough-"

"You will do as I say, Feren!" the King's strict and commanding voice silenced the Commander. "You and your company will hold this position. I will press on and meet with Elladan, according to plan".

"But my lord, it is a risky endeavor. Perhaps we should-"

"Silence, I say!"

His voice thundered and boomed, deep and resonant. It was Tauriel who had spoken up after Feren, attempting to offer her opinion, which agreed with the Commander's. But Thranduil turned his cold and unyielding gaze to her, and she stood motionless for a few moments, eyes open wide and dagger still in her hand. It took his slaying of an orc that was ready to attack her for Tauriel to recover from her stupor.

"You are to come with me, and I will suffer no dissent or objection", he ordered her sternly, and she managed to nod weakly. "Rally to me, my warriors!" he then cried, and led his troops further into the fortress.

Tauriel felt a gentle hand on her arm, and she turned only to be met with the kind eyes of Legolas. He nodded to her reassuringly, and then sprang forth into the battle. The Captain followed close behind her King, but her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She did not agree with his plan to press onward, fearing their force was too small to challenge the Nazgul. And what real damage could they inflict upon them? They were wraiths, dead already, and awoken from their death through dark sorcery. But she did not dare cross Thranduil again either, so she obediently marched forward and killed any foe that came in her way.

With a force of about one hundred elves, the Elvenking began the ascent on the hill towards the gates of the Tower. He was hoping that Elladan's and Feren's companies would meet with his there in time. They were to move around the outskirts of the fortress, where the resistance was expected to be scarcer. Thranduil had chosen for himself the hardest path along the main pathway of Dol Guldur, where the enemies were denser and their attack fiercer.

As he slayed one orc, a fell voice was heard in the air, distorted and abysmal, and yet powerful and domineering.

"Do you think you can challenge me, elf-king?" the voice sneered and malicious laughter followed.

"It is the Nazgul…" whispered Tauriel in awe and fear.

Feeling the chill of evil penetrating him to the bone, and disturbing his _fea_ greatly, Thranduil looked around in agitation and disorientation. The black shadow of the Nazgul appeared on a bridge in the distance, only it now seemed to him much larger and terrible to behold. It laughed and screeched, but the voice came from nowhere, for it had no face and no tongue. There was only a black void, hidden beneath black, tattered robes. Its unnatural voice, thick with malice, tormented the elven senses, and many of the warriors had to avert their eyes from the horrid sight. Such was the aversion and terror it caused them.

But then Thranduil recomposed himself and managed to shake the effects of evil for a short while. "Regroup, warriors of Elbereth, and fear no darkness! It will flee before the light of the Eldar!" he cried, giving the signal to continue their attack.

The elves rallied to their King, and stroke down the foes that came against them with bolstered morale and rekindled courage. But the orcs were becoming stronger and more determined under the direct influence of the Nazgul's power, who remained on top of the high bridge and dictated the battle below.

"You will all _die_ …!" the black shadow shrieked, and its voice crept into the minds and hearts of the elves like a sickness, dimming their hope and threatening their resolve.

But they yielded not, and ever on they fought, dispatching every orc, warg and spider that attacked them. Countless foes were felled, but now the battleground began welcoming the lifeless bodies of elves as well, their number increasing with each passing minute.

"Purge this fortress from the evil that plagues it!" cried Thranduil, looking frantically at the madness that ensued all around him, and mad with rage he descended like a deadly storm among his enemies, killing them relentlessly and marching forward.

He could now see the ruined gates of the Tower, and there was only darkness and shadow pouring out of them. He tried to trust to hope that Elladan and Feren would soon join them and strengthen their slowly but steadily diminishing numbers. As a sudden flash a thought crossed his mind then, that maybe this campaign was a folly and not a noble deed. What right had he to lead so many warriors to their deaths? What was it he wished to prove? Was that the way to show the world that he cared indeed for its fate, and that he would not shy away from the face of evil? Doubt and uncertainty took root in his heart, and he quivered. And also Legolas and Tauriel were with him, putting their lives on the line. What if something horrible befell them? Beset by such dread, he anxiously glanced at Tauriel, who fought a few paces behind him. She was unharmed, although her face betrayed great worry and horror.

The awful voice of the Nazgul reverberating through the baileys of Dol Guldur chilled him to the core. "Attack, my armies! Show them no mercy! _Kill the elves!_ " And at once a fresh horde of orcs poured out of the gates and was unleashed unto the flailing elves.

Thranduil sensed the battle would be soon reaching its peak. Weary in body he felt not, for as an elf he could endure many hours of combat, but his spirit was greatly troubled and challenged by the servant of Sauron. The darkness in it was roused and fought for dominion over the light, answering the call of evil. Disorientation and distress came upon him again, and he fought with all his might to hold his dark side at bay.

But his internal turmoil showed in his faltering step, and an orc managed a cut along his cheek. Rushing to his defense, Tauriel swirled and embedded her dagger in the creature's neck. It fell on the ground, choking on its own blood.

After killing the foe, she ran to him. "Thranduil!" she cried in anguish, catching his hazy and unfocused gaze and looking at his contorted in agony face.

Her voice pulled him out of his daze, and he took a sharp breath. "Tauriel", he recognized her. "Is Elladan come yet?" he asked hastily and peered in the distance.

"Thranduil! What came upon you?" she insisted, and at that moment stabbed another orc that closed in against them.

"I am fine", he replied, swallowing hard. "We have to take down their leader", he repeated his goal, and raised his sword towards the place where the Nazgul stood. "Where is Legolas? Is he alright?" he anxiously asked.

"He is. I saw him leading his warriors along the western pathway", she replied.

Forcing himself to appear concentrated and in control, he nodded, and then stepped away from Tauriel and into the fray again. To his relief, soon Elladan's and Feren's companies appeared from the flanks, merging with his and reinforcing their numbers.

"You fools! No one can challenge my power here!" screeched the Nazgul, and its shadowed figure abandoned its high watching spot and descended on the field of battle.

Upon its entrance, every movement paused for a long moment and every sound ceased. Tauriel watched in terror and with her breath caught in her throat as the Nazgul, faceless and hidden under a black cloak, advanced against them. The orcs fled and vanished before it, and a heavy silence filled the air. The elves stood with their swords raised in a defensive stance, but dared not attack the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur.

"You will pay for your folly, elf-king!" the Nazgul hissed and produced a Morgul blade from its robes.

Thranduil steeled his heart and mind, although a ringing voice in his thoughts told him that perhaps the Nazgul was right, perhaps it was folly to march against Dol Guldur and challenge its master. Those troublesome thoughts of doubt returned to his mind to plague him, and this time he could not shake them off.

"Prepare to die!" shrieked the Nazgul and raised its blade.

The Elvenking lifted his sword in defense, countering the blow. But the strength of the wraith was unnatural and immense, stemming from the Dark Lord himself, and it stroke at his opponent again with hatred, determined to break him.

But Thranduil held his ground and repelled blow after blow. Soon his warriors engaged in combat again, seeing their King standing against the Ringwraith. Elven blades pierced the Nazgul's insubstantial form, but they could not kill it, only weaken its black spirit temporarily.

Another high-pitched cry of the wraith called forth the other two Nazgul, which had not as of yet emerged from the black fortress. But now they came out of darkened gates, and raised their Morgul blades against the elven warriors, unforgiving in their dealing of death. Backwards stepped the elves, and many a sword trembled in uncertain hands. Thranduil peered around in anguish and despair. How could they ever hope to stand against such evil?

Now the three black shadows gathered together. They exuded an aura of dread, and the courage slowly seeped away from the hearts of the warriors. Up in the sky dark clouds gathered and the sun disappeared. An icy wind took up, carrying distant whispers in a tongue cursed and distorted, words that were only for the Nazgul to understand, and meant to strike fear in the hearts of the free peoples. Hearkening to them, their leader walked forth and spoke in a voice deep and eerie, a voice that came from the abysmal depths of Amon Amarth itself. "We are the mightiest servants of our Master. We are death eternal. You will flee before the wrath of the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur. The Black Blade of Lebennin shall end your life. Perpetual torment shall be visited upon you by the Gloom of Nurn. A fool is he who comes against us. A fool is he who thinks he can challenge the power of our Lord. With doom we come, and your doom you shall meet".

Three black blades were slowly raised high, as if initiating an ancient ritual. And then more foes flooded the battlefield again, their minds controlled and guided by the malicious will of the Nazgul.

Dire as the situation was, the elves knew they had to fight nonetheless. Their hearts turned to thoughts of their valiant ancestors, who had faced and defeated Sauron, and even Morgoth himself in bygone times. Were they not their worthy descendants? Drawing courage and inspiration there, they ceased their slow retreat and steadied their feet on the ground. Then Elladan drew his sword against one wraith, while Feren and his company sought to engage the other. The leader of the three fought the Elvenking, and greatly tormented his spirit.

"There is darkness inside you, elf-king! I can _smell_ it!" it hissed and shrieked, bringing its blade down on Thranduil, but he raised his in defense just in time to avoid a grievous blow. "Succumb to darkness… You will be useful to our Master".

"I will succumb to nothing!" cried he, willing to sound strong and defiant, but in truth he was breathless and desperate.

The Nazgul came and loomed over him, extending its wretched arm towards his neck. Momentarily robbed of the ability to react, he became a spectator of his own scene. The malice of the wraith descended like a cloud on his mind and numbed his senses, and Thranduil had to gather every last slither of courage and resolve not to let the sword drop from his hand.

" _Die now_ …" hissed the Ringwraith, and its decrepit fingers circled and tightened around the Elvenking's exposed throat.

An immense feeling of searing pain came over him, and tears of suffocation rose to his eyes. The fingers tightened, and Thranduil gasped in anguish. The glamor over his scarred left side faded then, and the terrible injuries were revealed.

"Behold the tainted elf-king! I have you at my mercy now!" screeched the wraith in malicious satisfaction, and everyone around him hearkened to the horrid sound of its voice.

"Thranduil!" cried Tauriel in desperation, and made to run to his side.

"Tauriel… no…" Thranduil managed between gasps, and strove to free himself of the Nazgul's iron grip.

For an instant she stopped in her steps, halted by his words, but then she resumed her pace, holding her daggers aloft and bringing them down against the wraith's arm.

Enraged, it pushed her out of the way, striking at her with its Morgul blade. The Captain deflected the blow, but was forced to take many steps backwards, in order to regain her balance. Before she had time to renew her attack, she was intercepted by attacking orcs.

The momentary distraction of the Nazgul, however, as well as the unbearable pain, brought Thranduil out of his paralyzed state, and his fingers grasped steadily the hilt of his sword. Mustering all his self-control and willpower, he brought his other hand against the Nazgul's arm, flinging it away from his throat.

The Ringwraith cried in anger and raised its blade, ready to strike him in the chest. But Thranduil lunged forward just in time and thrust his sword in the emptiness of its robes. The Nazgul stumbled backwards a few paces and shrieked, disturbed by the slice of the elven blade through its intangible form.

"Legolas!" the Elvenking called to his son who was fighting in the distance, and the Prince's eyes turned to his father. He was trying to make his way closer to him, dispatching countless foes in his way. "Fire… shoot at them with fire!" he shouted in exasperation and a choked voice, his breath coming rasped and shallow, as the searing feeling on his throat had not yet subsided.

The elven warriors heeded his command, and drew their bows. Soon fire-arrows were aimed at the three Nazgul, and they screeched menacingly, renewing their attacks and felling many elves. But then Haldir's warriors joined in with flaming arrows from the ramparts, and the wraiths were in great distress now and forced to retreat into the towers. Without their leader's guidance, the orcs panicked and scattered, fleeing from the battle.

"In the name of Elbereth, slay them all!" yelled Thranduil and raised his sword-arm, an ember of hope now lit in his deeply troubled heart.

The elves let out war-cries, courage swelling in their hearts now, and chased and cut down their foes in every direction. As the Elvenking saw his warriors charging, he let go of his restraint and dropped to his knees breathlessly. Using his sword as a staff, he embedded its tip in the ground and propped himself on it.

Tauriel slayed the last of the orcs that stood in her way and at last found the chance to come closer to her King, now that the tides of the battle had been turned.

"My lord!" she called at him, but he remained unresponsive and unmoving as a statue, his gaze fixed on the corpse of an orc that lay before him and breathing heavily. "Thranduil!" she called at him again in great urgency, placing her hand on his shoulder. The sudden touch caused him to turn his face to her direction. She peered deep into his eyes and saw the great challenge and torment he was suffering. "You are unwell…" she uttered.

He shook off his darkened thoughts. "Return to your position, Captain", he ordered her sternly and stood to his feet, albeit with some difficulty. He turned and paced away, holding his sword down as he went and keeping his head slightly bent.

Tauriel watched him under a furrowed brow, thoughtful and worried, for his demeanor was unnatural. Dread crept in her heart, fearing the consequences his encounter with the Nazgul would have on his _fea_.

* * *

The host of the free peoples had claimed victory that day, but it was one achieved through great losses. About one third of the force had perished, and the heaviest losses had come during the time of the Nazgul's presence on the battlefield.

It was dusk now, and the warriors had returned to their camp, far from the shadow of the Hill of Sorcery. But truly, the evil that lurked inside the fortress posed no real threat for now, as their numbers had been decimated and its leaders defeated and forced into retreat.

The healers were the busiest at this hour, tending to the numerous wounded warriors. Many of those who had suffered Morgul wounds would perish during the night, thus increasing the number of the dead. The scent of athelas was everywhere, as it was the only herb that could hinder and delay the effects of dark sorcery.

The Elvenking was resting in his own tent, with Legolas and Tauriel close to him. He had dismissed his Commanders and placed guards outside his tent, asking not to be disturbed during the night.

He had been treated with athelas as well, as the markings of the Nazgul's hand were evident on the skin of his throat. When at last he managed to fall asleep, his slumber was restless, the deep lines of distress never disappearing from his face.

Looking at his disquiet, Tauriel's heart bled in sorrow and worry. Motioning for Legolas to stand and approach her, she began talking to him in whispering tones. "I fear for your father greatly, Legolas. You were quite far, but I saw his torment while facing the Nazgul, and I saw its fingers closing around his throat. He seemed so weak, so resigned then… I feared he would be unable to withstand the wraith's oppression. I feared he would truly give up. And after the battle he was deeply troubled, distant and distraught. He refused to speak to me, and only walked away. And now this…" she murmured and looked once more at the sleeping form of the Elvenking.

The Prince shared in her concern, and his brow was furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. "Evil touched him yet again. I know not how he managed to survive it, resist it even, for the wraith would have surely tried to reach for the tainted part of his fea", he commented thoughtfully.

"His willpower is strong… More than we realize. But I fear for him, mellon. Will he be able to recover this time? What will the consequences be?" Tauriel whispered, and despair clouded her eyes, filling them with tears.

"I know not. There is little we can do now but treat him with athelas, wait and watch over him. Once he is awake, we will be able to tell his state of mind", said Legolas and glanced at the perspired face of his father. Taking a few steps closer to his cot, he picked up a clean cloth and wiped the sweat from his brow. Tauriel came and stood next to him, gazing at her lover sorrowfully.

"He must be dreaming", murmured Legolas, observing the shallow and quickened breath of the King and the slight twitch of his lips and brow every now and then.

"Nightmares. It is said that whoever encounters the Nazgul closely or for a prolonged time, suffers from nightmares or unconsciousness… or they even die", Tauriel said in a foreboding voice and kneeled by the bed, taking Thranduil's hand in hers. It was very cold and slightly shivering. Upset by that, she rose again. "I will fetch another blanket".

She went and returned quickly, enhancing the King's covers. Legolas dipped another cloth in athelas salve and carefully applied it on his father's throat, leaving the cloth to rest as a compress on the wound once he was done. Its soothing effect was visible on Thranduil's features, as they relaxed somewhat and his tremor subsided.

"Legolas…" Tauriel whispered, wishing to attract his attention, which was fixed on his father's face. "I think we should take turns watching over our King. You are weary from the battle and had not a chance to rest, and so am I. Exhausting ourselves to death will offer Thranduil no benefit", she suggested, and then gestured towards the adjoining chamber of the tent. "Get some sleep. I will let you know if anything in his condition changes".

Legolas sighed and seemed indecisive for a while. But in the end, he rose to his feet and spoke. "You are right. Much as it grieves me to leave my father's side, I realize there is nothing more I can do for him now. I doubt sleep will come to me, but I will try to rest nonetheless. Wake me up in a few hours, so that I can take over watching him", he responded, and Tauriel nodded. With that he slowly paced away and retreated behind the tent's divider.

The elleth turned to Thranduil's side, perched on a cushion on the ground and resting her head upon her folded arms on the thin mattress. Worry never left her heart, and dreadful thoughts danced in her head. How would his _fea_ react to this new assault of malice? How long would he be plagued by nightmares, after the Nazgul's touch? Would she be able to help him in any way?

Some time passed in this fashion, until a strained gasp that escaped Thranduil's lips pulled her out of her thoughts, and she rose from her seat, gently bending over him. He turned his head to the side and his eyelids fluttered open.

"Tauriel…" he murmured as soon as her face became clear in his vision.

"Hush, my love… I am here", she tried to soothe him and stroked his hair.

He gasped again, as even trying to breath was painful, and rasped, "Water... please".

The Captain reached to the nightstand and poured a glass. She then brought it to his lips, supporting his head with her hand. He took a few sips, and then let his head fall back again.

"It hurts… to speak", he said.

"I understand… But, wait… Perhaps some athelas draught would be of more help", she suggested and quickly stood.

In a few moments she was back and helping the King to a few generous gulps of the fragrant potion. True enough, its healing effect was immediate, as Thranduil felt the constricting pain in his throat subside, and his voice was freed.

"That is much better, thank you", he whispered and pushed himself in a sitting position, resting his back on pillows.

"How are you feeling?" the Captain asked with concern, searching his eyes for the truth.

"I have been through worse", he replied, and then glanced around. "Where is Legolas?"

"He is taking some rest. We decided to take turns watching over you through the night", she explained, and Thranduil nodded.

He then turned to her and managed a faint smile. "Thank you", he said and reached for her hand.

Tauriel noticed, to her relief, that it was not as cold as before. "What for, mell nin?"

"For standing by my side, and coming to my defense, although it was a reckless and perilous thing to do".

Tauriel smiled, but her lips and brow trembled with emotion. "How could I not? I love you, and I promised you I will be there for you always", she cried in a hushed tone and kissed his hand, while hot tears wetted it.

The Elvenking's heart was moved by her display of emotion, and he reached to caress her hair. "I know", he simply said in a calm voice.

She gazed up at him, and he observed the traces of fatigue and worry that lined her flawless features. "Have you had no rest at all yet?"

"No", she confessed.

He reached for her then, extending his arms to her and inviting her in an embrace. Tauriel was quick to comply, allowing her body to melt and mold against his, letting out a sigh of relief and content.

After a long moment had passed in mutual silence, she raised her face to look at him. "Did you have a nightmare while you slept? Your sleep certainly looked restless".

"Yes… It is only to be expected after my encounter with the Nazgul. When it held me in its grip and at its mercy, I thought I was going to die, Tauriel", he muttered in a low but controlled voice.

Her gaze flickered like a lit candle. "But you are stronger than that… you survived".

Thranduil looked in the distance, his gaze lost and unfocused. "It reached for the darkened part of my fea, calling it forth with all its might. It took every last shard of my willpower to keep it at bay, and not let it overwhelm me. I know not what would happen if it did", he spoke and sighed.

Tauriel then decided to ask the question she dreaded. "Do you feel any different now, Thranduil? Do you feel… darker?" she inquired cautiously.

He brought his eyes back to her. "I know not. Perhaps it is too soon to tell. Now, I just feel weary, exhausted even. And my throat hurts. I suspect the touch of the Nazgul will accompany me for a long time", he bitterly murmured and hung his head.

Tauriel readjusted her position on the cot so that she could face him properly and brought her hands to cup his cheeks tenderly.

"Do not worry yourself with dark thoughts now, my love. Whatever comes, if it comes, we shall face it together", she told him softly, and her emerald eyes were lit with hope.

He slowly lifted his gaze to meet hers, and allowed himself to share in her hope and courage. Nodding, he pulled her once more against his chest, and the elleth dropped a feathery kiss on his shoulder.

"It calms my heart to see you are faring quite well for now", she said as she pulled a little back from his embrace. "I will not rouse Legolas needlessly. I will remain here by your side, but you should try to sleep some more, my love. The dawn will not come for several hours still".

"It is not as if I have much choice in the matter. Exhaustion and sleep will soon claim me, though I dread the nightmares it will bring along", he sighed, and reclined on the mattress.

Tauriel stood and pulled the covers gently over his body, making sure he was safely tucked underneath.

"Whatever comes, we shall face it together", she repeated, and, bending over him, kissed his lips tenderly.

Soothed by her presence, Thranduil soon drifted away from the conscious world, surrendering his senses to a deep slumber.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

A few hours had passed since Thranduil had fallen asleep with Tauriel beside him. Although it was quiet in their tent, outside there was still much going on. Teams of soldiers had been tasked with the collecting of the dead, and the fallen were not few. The anguished cries of the wounded broke the silence every now and then, and the healers were still very busy, trying to save their lives and ease their pain.

An eerie atmosphere hung upon the camp. The fortress upon the dark hill in the distance was suspiciously silent; no light would flicker in the towers; no sound would be heard in the baileys. It was as if all life there had died. But it was a deceiving quiet; it gave out a feeling that evil had retreated, but in truth malice was brewing anew in the dungeons of Dol Guldur.

Elhedril, the young guard from Haldir's company, watched the black fort for a while, and then made for Thranduil's encampment. Her purpose was to seek out Tinuven, for she had not seen him at all during the battle, and she now wished to make sure he was safe and uninjured.

Her feet quickly brought her to his tent. A few soldiers lingered there, and she recognized one of his guards.

"Greetings, mellon", she spoke. "May I see your Commander?"

The elf sighed and his face grew grim. "He is not here".

"Why? What happened?" she asked, as her heart tightened with fear.

"He was wounded during the battle; he is now at the healers' tent", he informed her.

Elhedril's voice was caught in her throat. "Have you any idea if his wounds are serious?" she managed to inquire.

"No, my lady. But the healers' place is not far from here. I can show you there, if you wish".

She muttered her thanks, and then followed the guard.

A soon as the guard left, Elhedril paused in her step and just nervously stood there, not knowing where to look for Tinuven, for there were many tents, and most of them were quite large indeed and divided into compartments.

"Excuse me", she spoke to a passing elleth. "I am looking for Commander Tinuven. Might you know where he is?"

The elf nodded. "He is in the back room of the main tent, tended over by his mother, our lady Alfirimbes", she replied and then hurriedly paced away.

Elhedril walked to the direction she had been shown, and soon came into a dark room. A lone cot was there, and upon it lay Tinuven. By his side was a dark-haired elf-lady, who gently dabbed a compress on his wounds.

"My lady?" she uttered timidly.

Alfirimbes turned her weary eyes to her, and a curious look came upon her face. "Who may you be?"

"I am… My name is Elhedril. I am… a friend… of Tinuven's", she stuttered in unease.

The healer gave her a thorough look-over. "You are a warrior, one of the Galadhrim, if I am not mistaken".

"I am, my lady".

"Are you the one my son loves?" she inquired, and her formerly steady voice was now on the verge of breaking. "He was whispering a name in his feverish delirium earlier…" Elhedril gasped, and hesitated, unprepared as she was for this kind of confrontation. "I pray that you are", the lady went on, "because he now needs all the love he can get".

At that a single tear ran down her cheek, and she turned her eyes to the still form of her son again.

The guard stood in silence for a while, and then she carefully approached the cot. "Yes, my lady", she belatedly answered. "We love each other… very much", she confessed.

Alfirimbes nodded, and motioned for Elhedril to sit beside her. "Take his hand", she prompted her.

She did as she was told, and immediately noticed the coldness of it. She looked at the healer and her lips parted, unspoken question in her eyes.

The older elf bent her head, sighing in sorrow. "He has been touched by a Morgul blade".

Elhedril's gaze flickered and her resolve faltered, for she knew what those words meant. "Is he… Is he going to die?" she dreadfully asked.

Alfirimbes shook her head and shrugged, choking back a sob. "I do not know". She then hastily wiped another tear from her face.

The young guard turned her eyes to Tinuven. His face looked pale and drawn and strained, as if he was internally suffering. She brought a trembling hand to stroke his hair, and his brow twitched at the touch.

"I believe he can feel and hear you", said Alfirimbes.

Elhedril nodded. "Tinuven…" she then whispered, bending closer to him. "My love…"

His mother stood from the bed and moved over to the table, where she prepared some more athelas liniment.

"I am here, my love… I hope you can hear me", Elhedril spoke again. "Please, come back to us… I have just found to you. It would be so unfair to lose you now", she cried. "Our love has only sprouted… It has not even bloomed yet. Please, Tinuven, my heart… You must fight to live".

Sobs stifled her final words, and she collapsed beside him, giving herself unto weeping. Alfirimbes sighed as she watched her, and she realized that this elleth truly loved her son.

"Gather yourself, child. This is not the time to surrender yourself to despair. We must all-"

Alfirimbes had no time to finish her sentence, as a high-pitched scream coming from afar tore the air, and she looked around in bewilderment. "What is this?"

The scream was heard again, only this time clearer and louder. Elhedril's eyes suddenly opened wide, and she jumped to her feet. "Nazgul!" she cried.

Uproar and disorder broke out in the camp at once, and a soldier rushed into the healers' tent. "We are under attack!" he frantically yelled.

Alfirimbes felt her heart skip a beat. Turning to Elhedril, she said, "Stay here, with him. In the name of the love you claim to feel for him, protect him!"

Then she hastened to the main room, and called her people. "Children of Elbereth! The hour is dire, for the enemy is upon us. But we must not lose heart, and we must do our duty. We must defend our wounded kinsmen! So, I call to you, do not abandon your posts!"

With that she reached for a dagger, and prepared for the worst.

* * *

The sudden upheaval in the camp roused Tauriel. Legolas then barged in from the other room, and he was hastily putting on his armor.

"Tauriel!" he called.

"Legolas? What is going on?"

"The Nazgul are leading an attack against our camp! Quickly, wake my father and make ready. I must go to rally the soldiers", he said.

"But how? We have scouts, and the entrances to Thangulhad are guarded!" she cried incredulously.

"They must have been acting under the cover of evil… Such trickery and sorcery is not unknown to Sauron and his servants".

It was Thranduil who spoke in a hoarse voice, as he pushed back the covers and tried to sit up. Tauriel and Legolas' attention was upon him now.

"Like a black veil his malice descends upon his minions and conceals them from the light of day and the perception of his enemies. But I can feel them… I can feel him whispering to them in the Black Speech of Mordor", he went on, and his hand unconsciously flew to his wounded throat.

Tauriel noticed that, and she walked to him. "Thranduil? Are you hurting?"

As if woken from a reverie, he removed his hand and looked at her in the eye. "I am fine. Come, there is no time to lose. We must ready ourselves at all haste", he said, steeling his tone.

"Father, perhaps it would be wise if you remained here", Legolas offered.

"Nonsense. Go and muster our forces, ion nin, and I will be out there with you presently".

The Prince gave him a wary look, but in the end he bowed and marched out of the tent. Tauriel had already fastened her daggers on her belt, and was now searching for her bow. The noise outside was growing stronger with each passing minute.

"We have underestimated this filth…" the Elvenking murmured. His head felt heavy and his limbs were sore, but he forced himself onto his feet. Tauriel was ready by now, and looking at him worriedly.

"Go, and I will follow", he prompted her.

But the Captain stood where she was. "No".

"No?" he quirked an eyebrow.

Another screech was then heard, and the distant growls of the orcs could be heard more clearly now, as they were approaching fast.

"No. I will stay beside you. You are wounded, and in no place of fighting on your own. No matter what you say, I will stand beside you and watch over you", she replied with determination.

Thranduil looked at her, and felt his weary heart swell with love and pride for her. "My Queen", he whispered.

Tauriel's eyes gleamed for a split second, and then she reached for Thranduil's armor. "Here", she told him, handing the pieces to him.

"No, this is too heavy for me now", he said, and tossed aside the breastplate. "And I have no time to fumble with the fastening cords. Just pass me my swords", he asked of her.

Tauriel watched him with a measure of worry, but she complied with his request. Finally, she stepped up to him and placed his crown upon his silver head. "My King", she uttered lovingly.

Thranduil pulled her in an embrace, but soon he drew back, and his hand tightened upon the hilt of his sword. "We must go".

Out of the tent they rushed, only to be met with the chill of the night, and the descending hordes of the orcs. Like a black wave they came down from the Hill of Sorcery, and were rapidly approaching Thangulhad in no particular formation, but fueled by their endless hatred and wrath. The three Nazgul were leading them atop black steeds, and their horrid screeches disturbed the night.

Closer they came, and the scarce trees of the forest did little to halt their fury; they only forced their lines to break and turned them into an enormous rolling mass. Thranduil's camp was the closest to the ramparts and Thangulhad's west entrance, he having selected this position, so as to keep close watch of the fortress. Next to his was Haldir's camp, and to the back lay the camps of Rivendell, Dale and Erebor. Thus, these two front elven camps were fated to suffer the greatest force of the attacking foes.

Caught unprepared, the elves were disorganized. Legolas tried to shout some directions and bring order to chaos, and Haldir yelled to his archers to man the rampart, but there was little both of them could do. Thranduil then came forth and stood next to his son. "My warriors! Brace yourselves, for the enemy is upon us! Fight with all your might! Fight to live another day!" he yelled.

He had no time for more words, as the orcish lines now broke past the entrances and into the encampment. Swords clashed against swords, and every elf was soon engaged in combat, striving to repel the assailants. Thranduil stood his own, felling orc after orc, and Tauriel was always beside him. "We must not let them ravage and destroy our camp!" he cried. "Feren! Take your company and make for the healers' tents! Defend the wounded!" he called to the Commander, and he quickly obliged.

A black rider then came out of the orcish lines, slow and steady in his pace, like a man who is sure of purpose; and the orcs obediently ebbed aside for their leader to pass. He halted and sniffed the air, until he spotted what he was looking for.

"Elf-king… Your time is come!" the Nazgul hissed venomously and spurred its steed towards its target, brandishing its Morgul blade.

Thranduil looked up in despair. He knew he was weakened; he knew he was not ready for a second encounter with the Nazgul, so soon after the first one. He feared he would not be able to withstand its power this time. He feared he would give in.

Still, he stood his ground and raised both his swords. As the rider closed in, the Elvenking lunged forward and to the left, evading the horse's deadly hooves, and managing a deep slash across its belly. The beast whined in agony; it twisted and heaved, sending its rider off of its back.

Angered, the wraith rose from the ground, and held its blade aloft. "No more games, elf", it said, and advanced on Thranduil. "There is no escaping this time".

"Leave him alone!" cried Tauriel, and stepped in its way.

"Tauriel, no!" Thranduil shouted, but still she came against the Nazgul. It turned and blocked her attack quite easily, and then lunged forth. Tauriel managed to evade the first blow, but again it struck, and the force of the second blow was so great that she misstepped and fell to the ground. The servant of Sauron paid her no more attention, and moved towards the King.

"I said, no more games!" it hissed again, enraged, and full of hate.

Its evil spirit lurched towards Thranduil's, and he felt a drowning darkness enveloping him from all sides. _Oh Elbereth, aid me,_ he cried in his mind, and, for a little while, a ray of light broke the immense dark.

In that brief moment, he raised his sword and struck the formless Ringwraith. The elven blade pierced its black mantle and caused it to step backwards and shriek in misery and anger, but the blow was not strong enough to truly harm it.

"So you think you can defeat me, you fool? Do you not know I serve the One?"

Its ominous shadow now loomed over Thranduil, who was forced on his knees. Breathless he was, and the call of evil was too great to resist. " _You are tainted, elf-king. You bear the mark of Morgoth, as do we. Come, join us, serve our Master",_ the wraith's voice spoke in his mind, calling him to abandon all hope, to step away from the light and into shadow.

He then bent his head, and each breath he drew was heavier than before. Memories of times past stirred in his mind, and he saw himself fighting again the Serpents of the North. He saw the dragon's searing breath shroud him, and he cried in anguish. Old wounds were awakened. His entire left side ached now and burned, and he dropped the sword he was holding in his left hand.

"Yes… succumb!" hissed the Nazgul triumphantly.

But Tauriel had regrouped, and she came against it. "I will never let you harm him, as long as I live!" she cried and thrust her dagger in the wraith's back.

It screeched, disturbed by what she had done, and turned towards her in wrath. "Then you may very well _die_!"

It lifted its Morgul blade and brought it against Tauriel with great might. She caught it against her dagger, but the blow forced her to fall on her back, and the edge of the Nazgul's blade touched the side of her neck, drawing blood.

The Captain cried in agony, as scorching pain paralyzed her. She looked at the wraith in terror, defenseless and unable to move. _This is it, this is my death,_ she bitterly thought, and closed her eyes, ready to meet her fate.

But a pained cry coming from the Nazgul had her open her eyes again.

"Not so fast, you horrid creature!"

It was Legolas, and he was standing behind her, with his bow drawn, and an arrow had already been released and embedded itself in the wraith's insubstantial form, only to dissolve into ash soon afterwards.

"Legolas…!" Tauriel uttered in awe, insurmountably grateful for his appearance.

The Prince smiled to his friend, before releasing another arrow. The Nazgul lunged against him, but Legolas was swift and agile, and evaded the attack.

"Bring the elf-archer down, my hordes!" the Nazgul called at the orcs, and they hearkened to its command.

Seeing the oncoming assault, Legolas jumped on a rock, and threw a last glance at Tauriel. "Go to my father. Protect him!"

With that he lept over the heads of several orcs, forcing them to follow him and away from the ailing pair.

Legolas had won them some time, but the Nazgul was still there and very much unharmed.

"Fire…" Thranduil gasped.

Tauriel looked around her, but the closest torch she could see was several meters away. Torn between going for the torch and staying close to Thranduil, he sensed her dilemma and gave the answer for her:

"Go!"

Without another thought now, she sprang to her feet, feeling weak and dizzy due to her wound, but she willed her legs to move nonetheless.

"It is me you want, you foul servant of evil", rasped the Elvenking, managing with great effort to stand on his feet

"You are right, elf-king", the Nazgul scoffed, and slowly, menacingly, advanced towards him.

Its dark spirit touched his once more, and was met with waning resistance. Tears rose in Thranduil's eyes, for he knew he was rapidly losing this battle. _Do as you will with me, but leave Tauriel and my son alone,_ he pleaded in his mind.

The Nazgul came and gripped the Elvenking by the throat once more. His wounds there opened again, and the pain was blinding. He gasped, but was unable to remove the foul hand from his throat.

Tauriel then ran forth, holding the torch against the wraith. "Let go of him!" she cried, and attracted the attention of the Nazgul.

"Cursed she-elf!" it hissed, and threw Thranduil on the ground. "Do not think you can challenge me!"

Forcefully it struck against her, but her hand was steady, and the Nazgul halted. It shrieked in anger, and Tauriel lunged forward, now her turn to attack. The flames licked the wraith's form, and it wailed in pain. But then dozens of orcs came to their leader's aid, and attacked the valiant Captain from behind. A forceful blow she received on her head, and she fell down, the torch slipping from her grip. The orcs frantically stepped on it and put the fire away.

 _No…_ Tauriel lamented in her mind, her helpless form surrounded now by orcs. In front of her she saw the Nazgul closing in on Thranduil again, bending down and gripping him by the throat, and him unable to defend himself or resist.

And then all images faded from her sight, and she was lost into oblivion.

* * *

When Tauriel came round, her hazy and unfocused sight was met with the kind face of Alfirimbes. She tried to move, but the pain on the side of her neck was still devastating, radiating down her arm and on her back. Her eyes fluttered and she grunted in discomfort.

"There now, you are awake", the healer spoke softly.

"Where am I?" she managed.

"In the healers' tent, safe from harm".

"What happened? Is the attack over?" she inquired and tried again to move, but to no avail.

"Easy now, Captain. You have received a Morgul wound, and though it is only a superficial scratch and not serious, it will give you much trouble. You need to rest", the chief healer told her.

She fell back on the mattress with a huff. "Is the attack over?" she asked again.

"Yes, hours ago. Feren and his warriors protected us from the orcs, thankfully. But countless more wounded we received and treated", Alfirimbes sighed. "We had been unprepared, and the attack was devastating".

Tauriel fell silent, feeling a thundering headache rising. "So much death and ruin…"

The healer nodded grimly, and then stood and walked to the table, reaching for a jar and a bowl.

Another elf then walked into the room and to Tauriel's bed. "Hello, mellon nin".

Tauriel recognized her voice, and turned her eyes to her. "Elhedril! I am glad to see you are unharmed. But how came you here? Were you not with your people?" she wondered.

"I had come earlier in the day to see Tinuven", she explained, and sighed. "He had also received a Morgul wound, but he seems to be stable, for now", she said in a grave tone.

"Oh… The Commander… I did not know…" Tauriel stammered.

Elhedril nodded. "He is in the next room. I was there, until I heard they brought you here as well. How are you faring?"

"I am rather dizzy, and the pain is biting, but I think I will survive", she replied with a weak smile.

"Here, drink some athelas potion", Alfirimbes offered and held a cup to her lips.

Tauriel tasted and sipped from it, at once sensing its soothing effects. "Thank you", she murmured.

Her thoughts then cleared, and she remembered the events of the night. "What time is it?" she required.

"It must be around noon", the healer answered her.

"Noon! So much time has passed!" she cried. "Where is Thranduil? How is our King?" she asked in agitation.

Alfirimbes sighed, and averted her gaze. "We do not know".

"What do you mean?"

She received no answer this time.

Tauriel's heart was now drumming in her chest. She remembered the Nazgul grasping Thranduil by the throat, and it was the last thing she saw before she fell unconscious. "No…" she whispered in despair, and tears stung her eyes. _No, no, a thousand times no!_ She cried in her thoughts.

"Prince Legolas is acting in his stead, regrouping the soldiers and counting our losses", Alfirimbes spoke.

"Where is he? I must see him at once!" Tauriel frantically cried, and made to rise again, her strength now revived thanks to the athelas potion.

"You should be resting, Captain", the healer repeated. "Legolas knows what he must do, I am sure".

"Forgive me, my lady, but I cannot stay inactive. I must go", she insisted.

Tauriel was resolved, and she jumped to her feet. Her daggers were lying at her bedside, and she grabbed them on her way out.

Neither Alfirimbes nor Elhedril tried to stop her.

* * *

As soon as Tauriel stepped out of the tent, she was met with the harsh daylight, which caused her to squint in discomfort. Around her everything lay in ash and ruin. Tents were brought down, torn and broken; weapons were scattered upon the ground, elven and orcish alike; and corpses, so many corpses.

Her heart trembled to see elves lying dead in the dust, their immortal lives gone from their bodies forever. This was the horror of war, which Thranduil had spoken of to her. And she now understood his resentment towards shedding more elven blood in defense of any damned cause, no matter how righteous it sounded. For what kind of cause could ever justify the loss of so many lives? What cause was worth so much sacrifice?

Embittered and devastated, she made her way towards the King's tent, for this is where she suspected Legolas would now be, in the absence of his father. And she was right; she found him seated in Thranduil's chair, head bent and face grim.

"Legolas!"

The young ellon lifted his eyes, and a small smile lit his features. "Tauriel!"

They engaged in a tight embrace, glad to have found one another. "You are safe", she said and looked at him tenderly. He was rather dirty, and had a few small cuts here and there, but nothing beyond that.

"So are you. But what is this?" he asked and looked at the side of her neck.

"It is a minor wound, nothing to worry about. It gives me some discomfort, but that is all", she hastily explained.

The Prince looked at her with suspicion, but decided to let the matter be for now.

"My father is nowhere to be found", he said mournfully, and turned from her.

"Legolas… I believe the Nazgul have him", she whispered in dread and touched his arm. "The last thing I saw before I blacked out was a wraith looming over him, ready to claim him".

He watched her as she spoke, and a deep frown descended upon his handsome face. "But why would the Nazgul take him? Why do they want with him?"

Tauriel drew a shaky breath. "I am not sure… But I may have an idea".

"What kind of an idea?" he demanded. She hesitated, unsure of how to begin. "Come, Tauriel, speak!" he impatiently urged her.

"I remember hearing the Nazgul calling for him to succumb to their power… I fear they were addressing the mark of Morgoth in his _fea_ , Legolas. They were inviting him to join them, to become a servant of evil like themselves", she finally uttered, voicing her dreadful thoughts.

Legolas gasped, realizing there was a great chance she was right. "They have him in their clutches now. He is wounded; he will not be able to resist them for long", he said worriedly. "We must do something. We have to find him, and rescue him".

"Yes. But we must not act on impulse, Legolas, lest we become prey to the Nazgul ourselves. We have to lay a firm plan", the Captain said.

"You are right. I will call a war council first, to learn the state of the armies of our allies, and to let them know of my father's fate. Then, with cool heads, we can think of a course of action", he said. "Go now, my friend; rest and replenish your strength, for I will need you here when the council takes place, and I will make sure it will not be long before it does. We have absolutely no time to lose".

Tauriel nodded, and left.

* * *

Later in the day, by nightfall, the leaders of the armies were gathered in the Elvenking's tent. The mood of everyone was foul, for every army had suffered losses.

"Prince Legolas", the dwarven leader spoke impatiently. "Where is your father, the King? Why must he make us wait for him?"

Legolas sighed and looked at Thorin bleakly. "I am afraid my father is not coming at all, my noble Prince. That is why I called you all here in such urgency".

The dwarf's mouth opened wide in shock. "What is that supposed to mean? Has he fallen?"

The reactions of the rest were similar, directing questions considering Thranduil's fate at Legolas. He tried to calm them down. "Please, allow me to explain. My father has gone missing. It is true, we know not whether he is still alive, but we have reason to believe he is", he began. "Still, before we move to the issue of my father's disappearance, I would like to know how you and your armies fare, and what losses you have suffered. Prince Brand, if you may?"

"Well, my men stood alongside the dwarves during the battle in the fort, and though the attack against us was heavy, the majority of us survived. And during last night's assault, the position of our camp protected us from the worst blow, which you must have suffered, unfortunately", Brand said and looked at Legolas with kindness and compassion.

But the elf remained expressionless, and now turned his azure eyes to Thorin.

"My report does not differ much from Prince Brand's. We have already regrouped, and will not be caught unawares again. The dwarves will not forgive the orcs and the Nazgul for the ruin they brought upon us", he said, and banged his first on the table.

Legolas nodded, and then turned to Elladan. "You, my lord Elladan?"

"I lost many warriors during the ascent in the fort, where we stood and faced the three wraiths. But I had anticipated this; other than that, our losses last night were not severe. The elves of Imladris are ready to fight again", he said, and his gaze flicked momentarily to Tauriel. He saw the deep sorrow in her downcast eyes, and his heart bled for her plight, even though he did not know what exactly it was.

"My lord Haldir, tell me of the state of the Galadhrim please. You must have suffered greatly last night, as we did", said Legolas quietly.

"Indeed, my Prince. Our role during the first battle was not so challenging, and we barely suffered any losses. But we were unprepared for the surprise assault in the night. We received half of the enemy's force, and they laid waste our camp. I fear most of it lies in ruin now, and we will need some time to regroup", he described the situation. "I will also ask for help, if you are able to give it", he added, glancing around to everyone.

Elladan was the first to respond. "Of course, my friend. We will aid you in any way possible".

"As will we. The dwarves of Erebor stand at your service", Thorin hastily offered.

"And so do the men of Dale", Brand spoke.

"Thank you, all. But what of you and your warriors, and your King, my Prince Legolas? Tell us now what happened", Haldir prompted him.

Legolas took a deep breath. "Our camp was devastated last night, and our losses multiplied. On top of that, my father the Elvenking is gone. The Captain here, who happened to be close to him during the assault, saw him being attacked by a Nazgul. Tauriel, if you may?" he invited her to continue the narration.

She stepped forth from where she was standing behind the Prince's chair, and spoke. "The leader of the Nazgul came against our King, but it did not seek to kill him. It sought to impose its will on him, to dominate his mind. After some discussion, Prince Legolas and I have come to believe our King has been abducted by the wraiths to be used for their own evil purposes".

Silence fell in the room, as they all contemplated what the elleth had just said.

"But why not kill him? What would the Nazgul need him for? It makes no sense to me", the Prince of Dale muttered.

Legolas and Tauriel exchanged an uncomfortable glance. "Long ago, when our people waged war against Gundabad, my father fought the Serpents of the North, and in that accursed battle he was fatefully wounded. He was touched by the flames of Morgoth, for those dragons were the spawn of Morgoth himself. There is a stain of evil in his spirit", he uttered those words with great strain, "and we think the Nazgul beckon to this taint, seeking to magnify it, and turn my father into a servant of evil", he explained, and his face grew grim and sad.

Once again, everyone fell silent. Terrible words had been spoken, and everyone's heart grew heavy with sorrow and despair.

At long last the dwarven Prince shifted in his seat, and lifted his head. "This complicates things greatly", he grunted. "Say you are right, and King Thranduil is indeed in the hands of the Nazgul; how are we supposed to find and rescue him?"

Legolas could not suppress a small smile, for he had not expected Thorin to consider rescuing his father. But there he was, this noble dwarf, speaking those words before anyone else, as if it was something obvious and indisputable that required no discussion.

"It gladdens my saddened heart, master dwarf, to hear such words coming from you", he told him in earnest.

Thorin shook his head. "This assault on Dol Guldur had been the Elvenking's idea, and he went to great lengths to make it happen, what with having to persuade my father and all", he said and waved his hand. "His cause was noble, as he wished for the freedom of all North from the dominion of evil. It stands only right that we do not abandon him to his fate now".

"I agree with the Prince of Erebor. In the name of this allegiance, I pledge you the help of the Galadhrim", Haldir said proudly and raised an eyebrow. His eyes then traveled to Tauriel. "Thankfully, we have the Captain's report, and we have a vague idea of what may have happened to lord Thranduil".

Tauriel held his gaze, and felt his eyes burning into hers. A feeling of unease came over her, and she looked elsewhere.

"If we are to meddle with the Nazgul, we must not do so lightly. I believe this is a grave issue that calls for the counsel of my father", said Elladan, and rose from his seat, attracting all eyes upon him now. "We have no time to waste. At once I will go and dispatch a messenger raven, to fly to Imladris at all haste".

"It will take days before we receive an answer. I doubt my father has this luxury of time", Legolas politely protested.

But Elladan shook his head. "If the Enemy had wished lord Thranduil dead, they would have killed him instead of abducting him. Listen to me, my friend. I do believe my father is our only hope now. He is wise and ancient, and he will know what to do. I also believe he will not simply give us an answer, but ride here himself to aid us", he said with a gleam of hope in his eyes.

"My lord Legolas", Tauriel began softly, and he turned to her. "I agree with lord Elladan. Lord Elrond may be our only hope now", said she and smiled to the elf of Rivendell, seeing now reflected in the son much of the wisdom of his father.

But Legolas was still not persuaded. "I fear my father will not be able to withstand the power of the enemy for so long. He is already weakened, and bears a Morgul wound. The temptation to allow evil to take over and thus be free of his torment will be great. I fear he will give in. And then, there is no telling what will happen. There may be no going back for him", he said grimly, and then looked around, to each and every one of his companions. "Nay, my friends. I cannot wait for lord Elrond to arrive, much as I appreciate his wisdom and value his help. We must act sooner; it has fallen upon us to lead our warriors now, and it is we who must make all decisions, no matter how terrible and grave they may be".

Silence fell in the room for several minutes, and nobody was willing to break it. But then Prince Thorin's countenance changed from thoughtful to resolved, his brow furrowed and he raised his fist. "A curse upon our lingering! Prince Legolas speaks right. We must look this dire situation in the eye. Are we cowardly children? Are we not the sons of our fathers?"

His bold words roused the spirits of the others, and they glanced at each other with brighter eyes and feeling shame for their reluctance.

"The Prince of Erebor has spoken for us all", said Haldir. "If lord Thranduil is a captive in Dol Guldur, it falls upon us to find out for sure and retrieve him. I propose we form a party of selected members to carry out this most important task".

Legolas smiled, for he saw that at last his word prevailed. "Thank you, my lords", he said with a controlled smile. Then he turned to Elladan. "Elladan, I would have you send word to lord Elrond, as you offered. His counsel might prove invaluable. But until then we cannot remain inert. While we search for my father, our attacks on Dol Guldur must not cease. Our foes must not see us lingering idly outside their gates, lest they suspect we are up to something. We must weaken their forces as much as we can. We cannot allow their numbers to grow again unhindered".

"So be it, then", Brand said. "Let us regroup from our losses, and then we will unleash another assault on that accursed fortress. It is what we came here to do, after all".

His plain and earnest words earned him nods of approval from his companions.

"Very well. I leave the strategics of that to you, my lords, for I will be leading the search party", Legolas announced. "Commander Feren will take over leadership on the battlefield, so it is him whom you must convene with when you discuss the battle plans. And now I will ask you to excuse me, for the hour has drawn late, and there is much for me to do before daybreak".

The council was disassembled then. Legolas went out of the tent in a haste, with Tauriel following close behind. The devastation that lay around them, all over the camp, instantly reminded them of the ruthlessness of the enemy and what a perilous task they were about to undertake, to sneak into the castle of the Nazgul and search for Thranduil under their very nose.

"Legolas", Tauriel called to him, and he halted. "Who will be coming with us, then?"

He narrowed his eyes to her slightly. "So you are determined to come".

"You need not be asking that", she softly scolded him. "I came here to fight alongside your father. Now I cannot bear to be parted from him in such a cruel way. My heart weeps not to know of his fate…" she muttered sorrowfully.

The Prince approached her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I understand".

"I should have foreseen that… I should have tried to deter him from facing the Nazgul. How could I have been so blind?" she cried in agony, and buried her face in her palms, muffling her sobs.

Legolas drew her into his arms. "The fault lies with both of us, or neither at all. My father would march to his duty no matter what you or I might have told him. Do not think he was not aware of that dire prospect; and yet he decided to stand brave and take his chances".

"It was almost as if he was indeed seeking death…" she whispered, petrified.

"Death has been on his mind for hundreds of years. Truly, the yearning for it must have often been strong. But I do not believe he wished to die here, Tauriel. I believe he only wished to do what is right, and to make up for his past errors. He never lacked courage; but perhaps he underestimated the influence of Morgoth's mark on his spirit", he tried to provide some insight.

Tauriel shook her head and drew slightly back. "And he marched to his doom".

"We do not know that. I refuse to give up hope until I have seen his fate with my own eyes", Legolas countered.

She nodded with eyes glassy from newly formed tears. "You are right. We should not be giving ourselves unto despair, not yet at least. There is still a faint glimmer of hope, and to that I will trust. Let us tarry no longer, mellon nin. We should be gone soon".

"Yes. I will have Aeldir, my father's most faithful guard and a most able swordsman to accompany us, and also Maeril the healer; she would know what to do to help my father, if we find him to be badly injured. I think the four of us are sufficient. Stealth and speed must be our assets, if we are to have some hope of success". Legolas sighed in worry and anticipation. "I will go and seek them out now. You should prepare yourself, Tauriel. We will depart at first light, when the power of the Nazgul starts to wane".

At that the two friends shared a quick but warm embrace, trying to draw hope and courage from each other. Then they parted, and each went their own way.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

When Thranduil opened his eyes, he was met with darkness. His head felt dizzy, and his sight was bleary. Pain throbbed all through his body, and numbed the acuteness of his elven senses.

Still, as consciousness returned and his thoughts gradually cleared, he managed to lift his face. He squinted, and around him he could see only walls, old, dirty, and made of stone. An attempt to move his arms and legs produced the heavy clank and drag of iron chains against rock, and at once he realized he was bound and shackled on the floor of an orcish dungeon. _I must be in the bowels of Dol Guldur,_ he thought.

Images of the attack at the elven camp came to his mind. He remembered being assaulted by the Nazgul, his inability to withstand its overwhelming power, those decrepit fingers tightening their grip around his throat… And then there was nothing. He had no memory of how he came to be in the dungeon here, and he thought he must have remained unconscious for all this long. Though how long this had been, he knew not.

A foul smell was in the air, as if there were rotting corpses nearby, and it made the elf's stomach churn in disgust. Every breath he drew was laborious, for his throat ached and burned, and the putrid air he breathed only sickened him further, suffocating him. His limbs felt weak with exertion, and his spirit tormented and broken. _Oh, Elbereth, what dark fate have I called upon myself?_ He lamented and hung his head.

Filthy and torn were his garments, his cloak now hanging in pitiful shreds from his shoulders. His swords had been taken from him, and he was now left defenseless, a mere shadow of the proud King he once was, at the mercy of his captors.

How many days had passed since the battle? Was it night or day? There was no way Thranduil could tell. And what of his friends and kin? What of Legolas and Tauriel? _My son, my only son… My young love, light of my life…_ he tenderly thought, and a hot tear streamed down his cheek at the memory of his loved ones. _What have I dragged you into! What plight have I brought upon you!_ A mournful sob rocked his bent form, and broke the utter silence of his solitude. But even weeping made his body ache, and he drew a few quick and shallow breaths to try and counter it.

Alone in his miserable state he was, and there was nothing he could do to change it. He could only lie there and wait until his enemies decided what to do with him. Hopeless and resigned, he leaned back against the wall, and closed his weary eyes.

His mind wandered off, and a fitful slumber claimed him. Dreams then began to take form, and images of his late wife, Lothrin, appeared:

 _She was dressed in her battle armor and sat astride her battle steed. The white gems of Lasgalen shimmered on her breastplate, and its splendor matched the brilliance in her eyes as she turned to look at him, and smiled._

" _We are riding to war, beloved", she spoke._

" _Yes…"_

" _Are you afraid?"_

" _No"._

 _Her benevolent gaze then grew dark, and her beautiful face was distorted with a malicious grin. "You should be. Against the power of Morgoth there is no victory"._

 _He gasped, and his heart began beating fast. "What are you saying?"_

" _I am telling the truth. Do you not know you are leading me to my death?"_

 _She drew her sword and slowly directed its point at him. "I will die, and you will be marked forever. Evil shall take dominion upon you for all time!"_

 _An unnatural laughter she let out then, and Thranduil could only watch in horror._

" _Descend, oh drakes of Morgoth!" she called to the skies, and held up her arms._

 _The beasts then came down from the clouds, and set the ground on fire with their scorching breaths. Distant screams of pain and torture reached Thranduil's ears, but he could see none but Lothrin and himself._

" _This is death! Do you not see it?" she wildly cried, and turned towards the largest of the dragon, as he approached them._

" _Lothrin!" Thranduil cried helplessly, but he felt bound upon his horse, and unable to move or even lift his sword._

 _The dragon then opened his immense jaws, and flames came out, engulfing them both. Lothrin laughed manically, as her flesh melted away upon her bones, and then her exposed bones were blackened by the fire, disintegrating into ashes. A wind then took up and carried her ashen flakes up from their pile and into Thranduil's face._

 _Upon touch searing pain overwhelmed him, and he was set ablaze like a torch at night, but although he was in a bed of flames, his body remained intact. Everything was lost from his sight, save for the fire and smoke that was everywhere._

 _A dark form then slowly took shape from within the flames, and a horrible aura of dread emanated from it and reached Thranduil, who watched it helpless and terrified._

" _Thranduil…" the dark form whispered, and the voice was deep and resonating with malicious intent. "Do you recognize me for who I am?"_

 _The dark form grew larger before Thranduil's eyes; it came closer still, towering over him now. In the place of its face two narrow slits appeared, and they burned with unquenchable fire. "I am the One who has touched your spirit. I am the One who has marked you forever. I am Melkor, the mightiest that has ever been. I am Morgoth, the one who slew Feanor and claimed the Silmarils. Behold me now, and fear me, for you shall be the bearer of my will in Arda"._

Then the dreadful image was gone at once from his mind, and Thranduil awoke from his nightmare with a grunt, gasping for breath. Drenched in sweat he was and feverish, his mind and heart still racing from the horrible sights and words that still echoed in his head. His throat ached, and as he made to touch it, he felt hot liquid dripping down his chest. _My own blood,_ he realized. _The wound is open and festering. I bear the brand of Morgoth, and it shall never fade…_

Slowly raising his face, he beheld the black form of a Nazgul standing in front of him, still and silent as a statue, but he felt its aura surrounding him, assaulting his elven spirit, and his light waned, flickering like a candle in the wind. Another gasp escaped him, as fear gripped his heart.

"This is your fate now, elf-king", the wraith hissed venomously. "I perceive your dreams, for the influence of the Dark Lord runs in our essence, as does in yours. Can you deny it, elf?" it challenged him.

Thranduil stood at a loss for words, unable to deny the truth in the Nazgul's claim. But his mind was racing. Was it only perception, or did the wraith in truth control and dictate his dreams? Was this not one of their dark powers after all, to bring nightmares to those who had beheld them?

"This is your fate now…" it said again. "Accept it, and you shall be greatly rewarded", it whispered its deceitful promises, and then turned and vanished into the darkness.

The Elvenking was left alone once more, profoundly shaken by the nightmare he had, and the certainty with which the Nazgul had spoken about his fate. _So this is what I am to become? A servant of evil? Am I doomed to become twisted and malevolent, like Sauron's servants?_ He thought with horror.

It troubled him deeply that the influence of Morgoth had seeped into the memories of his past, distorting them and making them appear according to his evil intent. He had just used Lothrin's cherished memory and her beloved face to beckon to him, and he had taken a scene from his past and altered it to suit his purposes.

But for how long would Thranduil be able to preserve his sanity? For how long would he be able to tell apart truth from lie? He feared a time would come when those distinctive lines would be blurred, and he would be swayed by the will of the Dark Lord.

He would sooner die than become a servant of evil.

But even though he still resisted the call of evil, he could not deny a part of him felt allured by it. The power of Darkness spoke to a place buried deep inside him, which was dormant, and sought to stir and wake it.

And Thranduil could already feel this. The sight of the gems of Lasgalen in his dream had awoken his greed. _The white gems… they are mine! They were stolen from me by the cursed dwarves… A fool I was not to take them right away, when that dwarfling offered them to me freely!_

"No!" he cried into the darkness, trying to shake these treacherous thoughts from his head _. I must not succumb to evil! This is what they want!_ He drew a deep but shaky breath, and his lungs burned with the poisonous air of the cell. _I must not give in. I must endure._

But for how long could he really endure? How long would it be before the Nazgul succeeded in dominating his mind and will?

And he dared not entertain thoughts of rescue. He could never expect anyone to embark on such a quest of madness, solely for his sake. And he would never wish Legolas and Tauriel to risk their lives to save him. Deep in the dungeons on Dol Guldur he was, and nobody would be able to reach down here alive. Nobody had the power to defeat the Nazgul in their stronghold.

He hung his head in defeat. _We failed in our cause. And I have failed them all terribly._

* * *

There was no golden sun to brighten the grey sky when Legolas and his companions set out from Thangulhad. Dressed in leather armor and fully armed they were with swords and bows, and each carried a small satchel with provisions on their belt: fresh water, and some dried waybread, cheese, figs and nuts, for they knew not how far from their camp their search would lead them or what they might come across in their path. Maeril the healer had a sword for protection, but her true mastery lay in the bag of herbs and potions she carried; she only hoped they would not be called upon to use.

"We must avoid the west entrance of the fortress", said Legolas. "It will be swarming with guards. I say we go around the hill and seek another way in".

"It will be a longer way, but hopefully a safer one, if one could actually call it that", said Aeldir the guard.

The ellith nodded in agreement. "Now look here", the Prince went on, as he produced an old and yellowed map from his vest. "This is the road connecting Thangulhad with Dol Guldur. It leads to the front gate, of course. But here it forks out, and goes south and along the southern slope of the hill. I suspect there is another entrance to Dol Guldur somewhere there. I do not expect the road to be well preserved; or perhaps the orcs were instructed to destroy it. Still, I believe there will be traces of it and we will be able to find where it led".

"All roads lead somewhere. We will find the hidden entrance", said Tauriel with determination, her fingers tightening their grip on her bow.

"Indeed. But we must not keep on the road, lest we be discovered. I expect that the Nazgul have set patrols around the hill. We shall go parallel to the road, through the forest", Legolas stated.

And so it was, and the elven group went southwards, hiding behind rock and tree, and hearkening for suspicious sounds. Their trail was slow, as they trod with great precaution. The old pathway was ruined as they had expected, and from a point on it could barely be seen on the ground, as the paving stones had been unearthed, and thorns and weeds grew about, concealing the direction it went. But Legolas and Tauriel were the keenest trackers, and if the path was lost, they would soon find it again.

The rock upon which Dol Guldur stood grew steeper the farther south they got, and still there was no trace of an old entrance. Hours passed in that fashion, and the elves just walked on, and oftentimes wondered if it had been a mistake to follow the southern road. What if it led nowhere? What if the old entrance was since long destroyed and concealed, and their quest was in vain?

The forest around them was denser in these parts, but it was dead and grey, and heavy mist fell about. Almost black was the ground, and the bare trees stood like ghosts in the fog. There was no sign of life, save perhaps for some insects, which crawled in fear under the rocks, as the elves passed. _What has become of our realm_ , thought Tauriel with sorrow. _It is so hard to believe that this was once a fair and green place, the most glorious wood in Middle-Earth. What fond memories of his youth Thranduil must have here…_ Her heart grew heavier as thoughts of her lover returned to her mind. _Oh, my love. If only you still live!_ She wished with all the might of her heart.

But her thoughts were interrupted by a distant sound, like cracking twigs beneath heavy feet. "Halt!" the Captain called to the rest, and at once everyone stopped in their steps and looked at her. "Did you hear that? There are footsteps in the distance".

The elves waited and listened, and soon they could all hear the approaching steps quite clearly. "Orcs, most probably", said Aeldir.

"Yes. I can almost smell their stench", Maeril commented, scrunching up her nose in disgust.

"Quiet now", Legolas whispered to them. "Let us hide behind these rocks", he said and pointed to a cluster nearby, "and see if we can avoid an unnecessary skirmish".

On silent feet moved the four elves and hid as their leader had ordered, almost holding their breaths now, and waited. The steps in the distance grew closer, and soon gruff voices could be heard. They were orcs with no doubt, a patrolling group on the southern road.

Soon they came into view. There were five of them, and the largest walked to the front, leading the rest. They held their crude scythe-like weapons, and they looked around for traces of spies and invaders.

They had almost passed the rocks where the elves were hiding, when their leader suddenly stopped and raised his fist in the air. "I smell elf-flesh!" he grunted in their guttural orcish language. "Find them!"

"They know we are here", murmured Legolas. "We have no choice but to fight".

"There is only five of them. An easy task for any elf!" said Aeldir, and he jumped forth from their hiding place. "Hey, filth! Is it us you are looking for?" he called to the orcs mockingly.

The orcish band immediately turned towards him and charged. The experienced guard held his sharp sword aloft and met the first blows of the orcs effectively. Then Legolas and Tauriel appeared on top of the rocks, with their formidable bows drawn, ready to release arrows as soon as they got a clear shot.

And so they did, and two of the orcs were quickly felled. The other three grunted and renewed their attack with greater might. The two archers now jumped down from the rocks, drawing their daggers. The orcs were an easy things for the skilled elves to face, and they quickly fell dead.

Maeril then came forth from behind the rocks. She had preferred not to engage in combat needlessly, for she only had a sword for protection, but was not a true master of the blade like her companions. "Is everyone alright?" she asked.

"Yes. These orcs were no match for us, and few in number", answered Aeldir.

"We have to hide their bodies", the Prince said in urgency. "Quickly, behind the rocks".

They dragged the corpses and piled them up behind the rock cluster. They would have burned them, were the smoke not to attract attention from the fortress uphill. So, they remained as they lay, their weapons and helmets piled up with them. There was nothing the orcs carried that would have been of value or any use to the elves. And there was no point in disguising themselves as orcs under orcish armor, as the orcs would smell the difference anyway. Like hounds, they could catch the scent of the elves from afar. So, Legolas and his friends covered the tracks of the fight and continued on their way.

* * *

It was afternoon when the elven party reached the end of the southern road. After the skirmish with the orcs, the rest of their trail had been rather uneventful. Now they came at the foot of the hill, and they looked up to what must have been stairs in times long past. There were broken iron bars and hinges on the ground, the remnants of what used to be a gate, and there also seemed to an ornate staircase lying in ruin. From there the bare rock began, and on the right and left it was sharp, but in the middle it had been carved in the likeness of steps. Broken they were, and grown steep and slippery with the passing of time and disuse, but if one was careful enough in his footing, they could lead him far above, as they ascended on the face of the slope and wound up towards a tower, the topmost spire of which was hidden in heavy fog.

"This is it", said Legolas. "These broken stairs lead to an old entrance, no doubt".

"Only a fool would dare such a climb…" muttered Maeril, who never loved great heights.

"We have no choice now", Tauriel told her, a little too sharply. The other elleth recoiled, and nodded meekly.

Aeldir looked around in unease. "I do not like this place. Evil seeps out of its every crevice. And it will be nightfall soon. Would it not be unwise to begin our ascent now?" he directed his question to the Prince.

Legolas huffed. "We have no time to spare, Aeldir. We have to start now, while there is still some light in the sky. But I deem you are right about nightfall; although the darkness would serve well to cover our movements, were it an ordinary foe we were facing, it is not the case with the Nazgul. Their powers are much greater and their vision much clearer during nighttime. We would be fools to expose ourselves thus. So I say we begin climbing now, and after dusk we shall stop and hide".

"Where are we to hide? The slope looks steep and sleek enough like a glacier", Tauriel wondered.

"Look over there, to the east, where the stairs come to a plateau. The rock is concave and its upper end ridges like a ledge above the pathway. I think we can hide beneath it", described the Prince.

The elves looked to where he pointed, and Maeril felt the need to take a generous gulp from her waterskin, trying to brace herself for what was to follow.

"Alright then. Off we go", Tauriel said, inhaling deeply.

The small company began climbing the narrow stairs. At first it was not so difficult, but the higher they went, the harder it became for them to keep their footing and not to slip or get dizzy. Were they not elves but men or dwarves, this endeavor would have proved immensely difficult, impossible even. A heavy mist covered everything, thick and dark, hindering their vision. Not few were the times when they feared they had reached a dead end, or the altitude and the nearly vertical slope of the cliff caused them to feel nauseous. Maeril had it worse than the rest, and she often had to pause, take deep breaths and look away from the face of the cliff. And the cold wind did nothing to help them. It snapped at their cloaks and tousled their hair, encumbering their ascent further.

When the twilight of the day came, the plateau ahead could be seen clearly. A few more careful steps and they reached it, nearly breathless, but relieved. To the back the rock was concave indeed, creating a very convenient hiding place. The ledge above obstructed the view from high atop the hill. Legolas was pleased. At last, they could take some rest.

With a thump Maeril dropped her belongings and leaned against the wall of the rock, exhaling in relief. "I do not think I could take another step today", she murmured wearily.

"It will not be needed, my friend. We can rest, at last", Legolas reassured her, and she replied with a nod and a timid smile.

Their ascent had been mostly wordless, with each elf focused intensely on where they put their hands and feet. It was not a time for small talk but for caution and concentration. But now the elves had found their tongues again.

"The view from here is breathtaking", Aeldir commented as he peered into the distance. To the east the vastness of the forest went on and on, bathed in a fog that seemed constant and unmoving. To the south the forest was scarcer and the terrain uneven.

"This was once my grandfather's kingdom", Legolas whispered, as if to himself, and seemed for a little while lost in his thoughts. But then he turned to his friends. "We shall light no fire. Huddle as best you can in your cloaks, for they will provide the only warmth for us tonight. Eat, and replenish your strength, for we will need it tomorrow. We have not yet come to the half of our ascending trail", he said as he glanced upwards, to where the towers were lost in the clouds.

Maeril had already sat down and was munching on her cheese, and Aeldir went to join her, unbuckling his sword and leaving it to lie beside him. "I wish I had brought along some wine as well", he muttered grumpily, as he gazed at his waterskin, and the healer chuckled softly.

Tauriel came to stand close to Legolas. "I never knew Dol Guldur was so high a hill", she said.

"It looks not so from the west, as the ground is elevated there. But to the south it dips lower, and the cliffs rise high. As you saw during the battle, all of the baileys are a continuous ascent. I suspect the courtyard of the fortress is built on a higher level. The architecture of this place is complicated. It must have been beautiful to behold in its time of glory", Legolas said, folding his arms before his chest.

"Our race has always harbored a fondness for high places", Aeldir put in, raising his voice from where he sat. "I remember Harlond in Lindon, where I lived as a child, before my family migrated to the Woodland Realm. A harbor it is, but to the west the city is built upon a high hill. You have to climb countless steps to reach the top level, but the view from up there is definitely rewarding. Dol Guldur is larger of course, and much more ominous, but you get my meaning".

"I have no quarrel with elven places built on cliffs, though I am not really fond of great heights. But this place is dark and evil. I do not dare imagine what Mordor looks like…" Maeril sighed, quivering, though she knew not whether it was from the cold or the feeling of unease that gripped her heart.

"My father has often told stories of Mordor and the first war against Sauron. It must be a desolate and terrible place, but I would say Dol Guldur resembles Carn Dum a little, where the seat of the Witch-King once was. A long time ago we fought against Angmar… The Red Stronghold was built on the northern slope of Mount Gundabad and had tall spires that reached to the clouds", Aeldir narrated.

Legolas then walked towards the seated pair. "It is a bad omen to name such accursed places while we are in the domain of the Dark Lord. It is as if we are invoking the evil that lurks here ourselves. And we should keep our voices low", he instructed them. "I do not think this passage here is guarded, for no clumsy orc would ever be able to climb these stairs without falling to its death, but we do not know who might be listening. The Shadow's influence runs in all sorts of creatures, and I would not want to invite some terrible spider here".

The others nodded in agreement, and fell silent, focusing on their crude meal instead.

"We should also keep watch overnight", said Tauriel, as she looked up in the sky. "The night has fallen, but I can see no stars…"

"The Captain is right. We will take turns. I will go first, while you can get some much-needed rest, my friends", said the Prince.

Tauriel then moved away from the edge of the cliff and towards the posterior wall, where she sat near the others. She pulled her cloak tightly around her, for although it was spring, the cold was still biting, and the aura of evil permeated everything here and chilled her to the bone. The small Morgul wound on the side of her neck bothered her a little, as if the essence of this place had awakened it. She crushed some athelas leaves in her hand and rubbed them against it, thus reducing the pain to a tingling sensation, which she chose to ignore. She opened her satchel then and brought out some walnuts and almonds to eat. She had not realized how hungry she was until she began tasting the crunchy nuts. In truth, they had not had a respite since the attack on their camp the previous night, and Tauriel could not really remember when was the last time she had something to eat. A glance around informed her that Maeril had already fallen asleep, and Aeldir was leaning against the wall, looking very sleepy and tired. Legolas sat on a flat rock to the front of the small cave, and he lazily ate some waybread, while his bow was lying at his feet. Tauriel's thoughts drifted to Thranduil. She wondered where he might be now. If only they were able to find him! If only it was not too late! A myriad of dreadful images flooded her mind. What if he was tortured? The orcs were notorious for the harsh way they treated their prisoners. And they hated the elven race most. Surely an elven King would be a gift sent right into their filthy hands, a toy to play with until it was utterly damaged and useless.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she turned her head, hiding her sorrow from the eyes of her friend. She did not want to dishearten Legolas with her dire thoughts. But crying soon brought her exhaustion to the surface, and her eyelids grew heavy. It was not long before a deep slumber claimed her, and she drifted away from the conscious world.

* * *

The heavy door of the dungeon cell creaked and groaned as it slowly opened. Thranduil, who had managed to fall asleep in the past hour, suddenly awoke. He lifted his face and saw two large orcs entering. They were dressed in armor and wielded weapons, and more weapons were strapped on their belts: swords and daggers, axes and flails, and also a whip and a spear.

They grunted something unintelligible in their tongue, and the elf looked at them and shivered.

"Do you like games, elf-king?" the fattest of the two began taunting him.

He did not honor that with an answer. But his defying stance earned him a spit in the face by the fat orc.

"We have orders to entertain you", said the other, who was taller and scrawnier, and whose face was as if it had a constant mocking smile plastered upon it.

The fat one, Baurzat, took a few steps towards Thranduil. "On your feet, elf-scum!" he commanded, but his captive remained unmoving and looked upon him with disdain. Enraged, he called to his companion, "Drishnud! Get him to his feet and against the wall!"

Then the orc called Drishnud pulled at Thranduil's chains, and he was forced to stand. He bound the chains on some huge iron rings upon the wall, and the elf came face to face with the cold stone.

"Now this is better", Baurzat said, and produced a dagger from his belt. Then he grabbed Thranduil by the hair and pulled hard on his head. He winced in pain. "Was this painful?" gnarled the orc. "No? Then how about that!" he yelled and banged his head against the wall, not too hard to crack the skull or to make him lose consciousness, but hard enough for him to feel sundering pain and to get dizzy. A haze fell upon his eyes and the pain became throbbing, pulsating through his temples.

"Be careful, you fool! The Masters said not to kill him!" cried the other orc.

"I am no fool, you scumbag!" Baurzat barked. "Now give me the whip!"

Now wielding it in the air, he brought it down with force upon the Elvenking's back. It roared and cracked on impact, and Thranduil cried in agony.

"Ah, so now he is talking", sneered Drishnud and cackled.

The whip met Thranduil's back again and again, leaving its offensive marks upon it. At first his tunic was torn, the fabric easily torn and ripped into rags. Then long, red lines appeared on his skin, but as the torture went on the lines became deep gashes, and blood began flowing out of them in narrow streams. Baurzat kept flogging the captive in depraved fascination, until the other orc shouted, "Stop! Enough! My turn now".

The fat orc grunted in displeasure, but moved aside. Now Drishnud picked up a dagger and hovered over the ellon's shredded back, examining it closely. "I have never tasted elf-flesh before…" he murmured, and leered as he pushed the sharp tip of the dagger into Thranduil's flesh. He let out another cry of anguish, and his breath now came in short gasps. The orc twisted the dagger and managed to cut a small piece of skin, together with the underlying muscle. Then he brought it close to his nose. "It smells horrible", he said, but proceeded to put it in his mouth nonetheless. A couple of chews later, he spat it forcefully. "Ah! Disgusting! Much worse than dog-flesh and man-flesh!"

"I bet dwarf-flesh tastes better!" Baurzat said, and both orcs laughed wickedly.

Thranduil gritted his teeth and pressed his eyes shut, trying to withstand the torment and the humiliation. The pain in his head and his back was paralyzing. It came second only to the scorching pain of the dragonfire burns he had suffered so very long ago.

"Wait now. I will use this on his wounds", Drishnud said, who was apparently more cunning than the fat orc.

"What is that?" Baurzat asked curiously and pointed at the device his companion was holding. It was a round, bronze cup with a handle and a lid.

"It contains some kind of poison. It makes the wounds fester and slows the healing. And these elves are known to heal fast", the tall orc replied. Then he proceeded to remove the lid from the cup, revealing a perforated top side. He walked up to Thranduil and held the device by the handle, turning it upside down now. Through the holes the poison was now sprinkled all over the elf's back. It sizzled and burned wherever it fell, inflicted unbearable pain to the victim. The King's cries of pain reverberated through the dark cell.

Baurzat watched in amazement. "You are good at that!" he praised the other orc.

"I have done it before", Drishnud replied nonchalantly, as he finished his task.

Both orcs stood and admired their work, as the slashes on the Elvenking's back grew deeper still, and the flesh blackened from the poison, while more blood ran forth and all the way down his legs and onto the floor, creating small pools.

Then the fat orc took a flail in his hand. "His legs are too good for his own good I say". At that he stroke against Thranduil's thigh, and the spikes embedded themselves in the tender skin and muscle. The elf cried once more in agony. Another blow at the other leg and his limbs gave in, unable to support his weight any longer. Had they been but a little harder, his bones would have broken. He remained now to hang limply from his wrists, where the shackles had already dug into his skin. Breathless he was, and his head dropped against the wall.

"Pft! This elf is weak!" huffed the fat orc.

"Yes. We have only began having fun and he fainted", the scrawny one agreed in a complaining tone.

"Leave him be. The Masters will be very angry if we destroy him already. They said they have plans for him", argued the other.

"Did you hear that, elf-scum? Our Masters want you alive. That is why you still live. Otherwise I would take great pleasure in finishing you off!" Drishnud shouted maliciously, and Baurzat spat at him again.

Then the orcs collected their instruments of torture and left.

Thranduil was left alone in his misery. His back ached, his head ached, his legs ached. He tried to push himself upwards and stand, but his injured thighs soon started to burn, and he abandoned this attempt. The orcs had not unhinged the chains from the rings on the wall, thus he could not just collapse on the ground. His weight pulled unforgivingly on his wrists, which began to bleed. A sigh of despair escaped his lungs, and a sob rocked his shoulders. There would be no rest for him tonight, or any moment hence, unless someone came in his cell and unbound him.

The poison in his wounds did not allow the pain to subside, and soon it entered his blood flow. His poisoned veins burned, and before long he felt a searing sensation all over his body. It was unbearable. He began crying, hopeless and defeated, and all he wished for was for this torment to end. He cared not to live; death seemed a much friendlier prospect now. At least, if he died, he would be of no use to the enemy. And he would at last be reunited with his wife.

A single ray of light broke the darkness of his mind as thoughts of Lothrin slowly took form. _Please, my love, take me with you…_ He begged in his thoughts.

" _No, Thranduil. Your time is not come yet. You must fight to live",_ a voice answered.

Startled, Thranduil tried to look around, but there was only darkness. _Are there ghosts here or is my mind playing tricks on me?_ He wondered. _Lothrin? Can it be you?_

" _This place is full of memory",_ a second voice said.

" _You are King now. Things are expected of you",_ spoke a third one.

" _This war cannot possibly be won. This is sheer madness. Turn back before it is too late",_ spoke another.

And then another, and another. More and more voices he could hear, and he was overwhelmed by their words. He felt as if he was attacked by them, as inconsistent phrases were directed to him, and they made no sense, they became a twine of meaningless utterings meant only to drive him crazy. And truly, certain now that this was the effect of the poison, Thranduil knew that insanity was only a mere step away.

But then suddenly the voices were silenced, and only one spoke, one that had spoken to him in his nightmares, deep and resonant, as if it rose from a chasm in the deeps of the earth:

"Are you ready to meet your fate, Elvenking?"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

As the blackness of the night started to slowly dissipate and a faint sun rose in the east, Tauriel, who had taken the final nightshift, quickly roused her companions. Aeldir and Maeril began to gather their belongings rather groggily, for sleep had been insufficient and troubled, while Legolas was the first to spring to his feet and get ready. He peered into the cloud-laden sky, and felt humidity in the air.

"I think it is about to rain", he said quietly.

The healer sighed and Thranduil's guard grunted, but Tauriel was more stoic. "All the same", she said. "Our goal remains as it was". Then she walked close to the edge of the cliff and looked at the ascending stairs. "It should not take us too long to reach the top", she remarked.

"If only the daylight was not so dim!" wished Maeril.

"It will have to do", the Prince responded. "Have you gotten a bite from your provisions yet? We should be going soon".

And so it happened, and the small elven company began climbing on the face of the hill again. The farther up they went, the mistier the air became, making breathing laborious and sight hazy. The carved staircase spiraled upwards and to the east, rounding about a flat rocky protrusion that jutted from the hillside, and then turning into a narrow trail, which was defined by the nearly vertical wall of rock on the inner side and the steep cliff on the outer one. This path was easier for the elves to tread on, and it continued up to the last third of the slope's height, where the stairs started again.

By midday the elves had finally reached the top of the hill. Relieved, they paused and looked around them. Below them the forest spread out as vast as ever, but to the west rose the highest tower of Dol Guldur, surrounded by smaller ones, and all were interconnected by stairs and bridges, which lay in various states of ruin and decay. Lights flickered here and there, indicating that the enemy was not dormant.

"Here must have once been where my grandfather's throne was", Legolas surmised, pointing to the great tower. "And this here must have been a secret exit, no doubt", he went on, stepping closer to what was the ruins of an old door, built into the rock.

"It is our only way in, it seems", Tauriel commented, examining the door more closely. There were boulders of rocks, partially obstructing the way, but the door itself looked rather loose in the hinges. "We have to remove these", she said and tried to lift a smaller rock. Aeldir came to her aid, and so did the rest. Soon, some of the rocks had been pushed aside, and the door was approachable.

Legolas then climbed up the remaining boulders and pushed at the door. The old wood creaked, but the door did not open. He tried again, kicking at it now with force. Again the door opened not, but a couple of boards broke. This process was repeated a few times more, until an opening of respectable size was created, and, one by one, the elves jumped in.

A narrow tunnel began there, but where it led no one could guess. There were torches on the walls, though scant and some unlit. Still, this indicated that the passage was not unknown to the enemy. Rodents, spiders and worms inhabited the tunnel, and here and there water dripped down from the roof. The air was stale and there was a vague smell of mustiness in it.

Maeril shivered. "I do not like this place", she muttered. "It looks as if it has not been used by anyone but rats and insects in centuries".

"This is probably exactly the case, my friend", Tauriel said.

The company walked on in silence. The tunnel narrowed and widened here and there, but on average it allowed a man to walk erect through it. The ground was rather slippery, and it changed between being ascending and descending. The turns of the tunnel were not many, generally maintaining its initial western direction. But at one point there was a large cavern in the wall, and chirping noise came from within.

"Halt!" Legolas called to the others.

"A spider nest!" the Captain instantly realized, her years of training paying off.

"We must destroy it", Aeldir voiced his mind.

"Wait", the Prince ordered, and then carefully stepped close to the opening in the wall and looked inside.

His eyes were met with the sight of many small tunnels in the rock, infested with numerous spiders, large and small ones. Webs covered the rocks, cocoons were woven in the corners, and spider eggs gleamed a wet white in the nests. This pattern extended as far as he could see, until utter darkness obscured all the rest.

"It looks like quite a large colony", he muttered gloomily.

"Dol Guldur is bound to be overflowing with these. It is where the spiders that plague our realm spawn!" Tauriel commented, feeling anger and disgust towards these creatures.

"Perhaps we should just walk by and leave them be…" the healer offered, moving to the opposite wall of the tunnel, as far from the spiders as she could.

But it was not to be. At that moment a large spider crept to the entrance of the hole, and its body nearly filled the whole of it. Legolas stepped back and instinctively drew his daggers. "I do not think this is an option any more. They have smelled us!" he said.

The spider made to attack with its pincers, and Legolas defended himself. The spider then jumped forth, and a swarm of smaller ones poured out of the cavern. Drawing their weapons, all four elves engaged in a frantic fight against their quick and agile enemies.

"Be careful of their stings!" Tauriel cried, remembering her last encounter with spiders in Mirkwood, which had proved nearly fatal.

For a moment then her mind travelled far off, as she kept killing the spiders mechanically. It went back to the days she spent in the infirmary in the Elvenking's halls, tended over by Alfirimbes. Thranduil paid her daily visits then, and often spent the night by her side, although no romantic confessions had been made between them yet. Back then, she was still quite unsure of the depth of her feelings for him. Now, no such doubt remained.

A sudden cry of pain forced her out of her daze, and her eyes turned to see Aeldir falling to his knees, his shoulder pierced by a spider's sting. She saw Legolas jumping in front of him to protect him, and she heard him shouting orders to Maeril to rush to the guard's aid. The healer abandoned the fight and rushed to his side, producing small jars and gauzes from her bag. Tauriel quickly ran close to Legolas, defending their two friends.

"If we apply this liniment made of athelas and lissuin immediately, there is a good chance that the poison will be effectively inactivated", Maeril told Aeldir, trying to calm and soothe him.

"Do as you must", he hastily replied, brow furrowing and fists tightening under the biting pain.

She dipped a compress in the salve and then softly pressed it on the wound. After an initial burning sensation, the guard felt his shoulder becoming less stiff and painful. Meanwhile, Tauriel and Legolas dispatched the last of the attacking spiders. The rest scurried back to the nest and hid inside their dark burrows. The chirping died down.

"How are you feeling, Aeldir?" the Prince turned to him, sheathing his daggers.

"I think I will live", he said with a half-smile. The guard was not one to be disheartened so easily. "It is a good thing we have Maeril with us", he said and looked at the healer with fondness. She smiled and lowered her eyes, almost blushing. Legolas and Tauriel exchanged a questioning look.

"Well, we should rest a while and regroup", Legolas suggested. "But preferably not here, under the spiders' nest. Aeldir, are you fit to walk?"

"Yes, my lord", he answered and rose to his feet.

"But first we must burn this nest, lest we be attacked again", Tauriel stated with determination, and grabbed the nearest torch from its holder on the wall and tossed it in the opening. Soon the air filled with the screeching of the frantic creatures and the stench of their burning corpses, and the elves moved quickly away from the blazing pit.

They walked a bit further into the tunnel, until they came to a place where there was another torch on the wall, which provided some dim light, but it was better than sheer darkness. They stopped there and sat down, now engaging themselves with the treating of their superficial cuts and ridding their weapons of the spider juices. Maeril applied some more liniment to Aeldir's wound and bound his shoulder more properly, now that she had ample time. He was feeling better, for the gash was not too deep, and the medicinal herbs prevented the poison from entering his veins.

Legolas suddenly realized he was hungry. "It must be nightfall", he murmured, and took a small bite of cheese. "Not that it makes any difference in here…"

Tauriel nodded, and Maeril sighed, now curled up close to Aeldir, who had already fallen asleep. The Prince watched the faces of his companions. Aeldir was bold, and although injured, he looked quite peaceful in his sleep. He belonged to Thranduil's personal guard, and he was loyal and devoted to his King. Maeril was young, but a distinguished healer already, second only to Alfirimbes. What she lacked in experience with a blade, she made up with her healing skills and her quick wit. And Tauriel… What more could be said of Tauriel? Legolas had known her since she was a mere elfling, orphaned and lost, and he had watched her grow into a brave and fearless warrior. He loved her, he admired her; and he knew that even though she appeared calm on the outside, deep inside her, her heart bled in agony for Thranduil's fate.

 _Oh, father… Hold on, wherever you are. We will never abandon you. We are coming for you._

* * *

Thranduil's eyes slowly fluttered open, only to be met with the darkness of his cell. Lying on the cold floor, he could barely move under the heavy chains, and his limbs felt stiff and sore. Blood was on his hands and feet, for the shackles had bitten into his skin, and his hair was now a mess of dirt and tangles. Countless times he had wished death to claim him, but it would seem his captors were determined to keep him alive.

Earlier in the day he had been visited by some orc guards, who unbound him from the wall, allowing his body to collapse lifelessly on the floor. They had paid him little attention, and only made sure he still lived. They had inspected the lash injuries on his back, pleased with the effect the poison had had on them. The cuts were still open, blackened, and showed very few signs of healing. Before leaving, the orcs had passed him a cup of foul-smelling water, a slice of bread and a bowl of porridge, made of who-knows-what. He had made no move to touch the food then, but now his instinct of self-preservation drove him to reach for it. His fingers came in touch with something that resembled bread, for it was soft and squishy. Holding it close to his nose, it smelled rotten and foul. On closer inspection, he could see worms nesting inside it. Disgusted, he tossed the maggoty bread aside. _Only orc filth can eat this,_ he bitterly thought. Reaching for the cup, the smell of decay assaulted his senses. _It is poisoned?_ He instinctively wondered, but soon cast this thought aside _. If they wanted me dead, I would be dead already._

Abandoning thoughts of sustenance, he tried to sit up. The whole of his body ached, and his flogged back sent frequent jolts of pain coursing along his spine and limbs. At least, the pain had become duller by now, and he could withstand it somewhat. But his traitorous thighs gave way when he tried to stand, unable to support his weight. Disheartened, he allowed his body to collapse on the cold floor. Pain and exhaustion, as well as the foul air of the dungeon had made him nauseous. His stomach churned, but there was no content to be thrown up. _What a humiliating defeat,_ he thought bitterly. _To rot like a rat in a dark and filthy cage_. Looking around again, as his eyes now accustomed to darkness, he tried to locate some possible way out; perhaps there was a fault in the wall or a broken stone that could be moved, or maybe the hinges of the door were loose… But the heavy and noisy drag of the iron chains on the floor reminded him that he was bound to place, and even if there was such a flaw in the cell as he was hoping for, he would not be able to exploit it.

With a sigh he decided to banish the thoughts of escaping, and his chin sunk low on his chest. How much time passed then, as he stared blankly into the darkness? Was it minutes, hours, or days? It was impossible to say, and, to his horror, Thranduil was feeling his sanity slowly abandoning him. Was this the plan of the Nazgul? For his body to waste away from the torment and malnourishment, and for him to lose his mind?

And he knew not how much longer he could resist the call of evil. It was constantly appealing to the taint in his spirit; he could sense it even when the Nazgul were not present. But the Elvenking knew that the power of Sauron was all over this place, and that his obedient servants would not stop until they had fulfilled their purpose, which was to make him yield. To his dismay, this prospect felt all too real now.

Having neither the strength nor the will to hold his head up any longer, he lowered his body on the stony ground. He felt he would soon drift away, and he dreaded what slumber might bring, but he could not fight it any more…

 _In his dream he saw himself as a young ellon. It was summertime, and he was leisurely resting upon a recliner in the terrace of his rooms in Amon Lanc. Eryn Galen spread out beneath his feet in its green and flowering glory, and his heart rejoiced at the sight. What a marvelous kingdom he would one day inherit!_

" _Thranduil", a deep voice called at him from inside, and he turned his eyes to see his father, Oropher. "What are you doing here, wasting away your time? A Prince should always be training, for he will become King one day"._

 _Oropher would usually be quite strict with his son, but not in a severe or harsh manner; he simply desired for his son to have the brightest future, and to become the best he could be._

" _Oh, ada, it is summer! Why can I not have a respite?" Thranduil complained, but in truth he was not bothered by his father's words._

 _The King walked closer. Imposing in his stature he was, and his face solemn. A crown of woodland flowers was upon his silver head, and he wore long, grey robes._

" _Do you not wish to become great one day?" he asked._

" _Well, yes… But I doubt that will ever be necessary, for you will remain our King forever, and I your reckless and unwise son", Thranduil replied in jest and laughed._

 _His mirth brought a small smile upon Oropher's face as well. "If only that were true… But times are changing, ion nin. Do not forget what befell us in Doriath", he said gravely, and all mirth was now gone from Thranduil's youthful face._

" _Mother… Oh, how much I miss her", he lamented._

 _The King nodded. "So do I. You see, what I meant to tell you is that tragedy may strike at any moment, and we must not be caught unawares"._

 _Thranduil's face grew grim with worry, and he stood from his chair. "What are you implying, father? Speak clearly, please"._

 _Oropher sighed. "A Shadow is rising in the South. Its power is growing, and soon we might find ourselves on the defense again. We cannot remain blind to it. We must protect our people, and defeat the enemy. Only then will we know peace"._

" _Are you speaking of war, then?"_

" _We might be on the brink of it"._

" _But… how is that possible? Nothing but peace and beauty reins in our forest!" Thranduil protested, unwilling to believe his father's words._

" _You must open your eyes to the world, ion nin. Soon will come the day when I am gone, and you will be King. For I will be slain on the slopes of Orodruin, in a terrible battle that will shape the futures of Arda. Against this Enemy, there will be no victory", Oropher said in a dark and foreboding manner, and a frown descended upon his face._

 _But Thranduil was now alarmed. "What are you saying, ada? Why do you speak of your death?"_

" _Do you not know, foolish elfling? I will leave you a kingdom in ruin, and you will be lost in your grief for centuries to come. You will fail to love your people; you will fail to love your wife; and you will fail to love your son!"_

 _Speechless now he was, as Oropher's face became distorted by a maniacal laughter. "You are a failure! You have always been, and you will always be a failure!" the King shrieked amidst his cackles._

" _No!" Thranduil wanted to launch himself against this creature of evil that had taken his father's form, but he felt helpless and bound to place._

" _Against our Lord there can be no victory. Be wise and surrender yourself to him. Do you not see there is no other path left for you to follow? All your deeds are filled with darkness. Darkness drove you to lead your wife to her death; darkness lost you your son; darkness led you to war over jewels; darkness led you to turn your kingdom into a fortress of hostility. Darkness has dictated your every decision! Do not resist it any more. It is your nature. Accept it, and be at last glorious in it!"_

" _Am I cursed? Am I truly a pawn in the hands of evil?" Thranduil mournfully cried and trembled. "Is it futile to resist?"_

" _Succumb!" the voice screamed._

Thranduil awoke then. Beads of sweat were upon his brow, for he was feverish again, and his heart pounded in his chest. Parched with thirst were his lips, and he clumsily reached for the cup nearby, allowing the fetid liquid to drip on his tongue. Disgust came upon him, but his throat welcomed the moisture.

"It will not be long now, pathetic elf-king", the Nazgul, that had been standing there all this time, hissed.

"Is it you who brings me these nightmares?" Thranduil managed in a hoarse voice.

"No, you fool! You yourself conjure forth these images of doom! I merely help the darkness in your spirit stir and waken", replied the wraith.

"I almost believe you…" whispered the Elvenking in a defeated manner, and he let himself fall flat on the floor. "I have no strength to fight… not any more. So many nightmares… Everything I loved you took and used against me. No more nightmares... Please..." he hopelessly begged, his voice being choked up in a dry sob.

"Oh, not everything. Not yet…" murmured the Nazgul, as it walked away and became one with the darkness around, leaving its cackle to echo behind and haunt Thranduil's waking hours.

* * *

There was much commotion in Thangulhad that morning. The third day that Legolas and his company were away had dawned, and the remaining leaders had started becoming restless. The camp had mostly recovered from its recent attack, and idleness did not suit a campaigning army.

So, Prince Thorin of Erebor took the initiative to call for a meeting in his tent. There came Haldir, Brand, Elladan and Feren. In the center of the chamber stood a trestle table loaded with mead, bacon, eggs, fruits and cheese, and there were stools around it.

"Sit, my friends", said the dwarf in a pleasant manner, and gestured towards the food. "I would not have us talk on empty bellies".

The elves marveled at the rich breakfast, but considered it an extravagance; the Prince of Dale, on the other hand, found it most delectable. Thorin waited for them to take their seats and then he sat as well, quickly grabbing for a large slice of bacon.

"My lord Thorin, we appreciate the manner of your welcome", Haldir began in a polite but rather impatient tone. "But I find my appetite diminished as long as we are on the doorstep of the enemy and the Elvenking is captive. Will you please tell us of the reason you called for this council?" he required.

"Starving ourselves will not help anyone now will it?" responded Thorin with a side-smirk. "And I think discussing dire matters over some good food makes them seem less dire… Still, I say you are right. I called you here because I think it is time we battled again. While we just sit here the enemy is regrouping. We must launch an attack on the fort and decimate the Nazgul's forces".

Elladan nodded. "I agree with the Prince. Our inaction allows the wraiths to do as they please unhindered, and it is quite likely they have focused their attention solely on lord Thranduil. If we were to attack them, it would serve as a distraction, and it might buy time for Legolas in his search".

"But what if we fall captive to the Nazgul as well? It would signal the ruin of the whole North!" Brand interjected.

"Well, the risk is always there. But where lesser spirits might succumb, the spirit of the Eldar endures", replied Elladan.

"Forgive me, my lord Elladan, but is the Elvenking not an elf as well?" asked Thorin with a hint of bitterness and insult in his voice. "Where was the superiority of the eldarin spirit when the wraiths took him captive?"

The son of Elrond smiled with benevolence. "I am afraid you misunderstood my words, my Prince. The Eldar do not fear the Nazgul, for we are light, and they are shadow. But Thranduil has been touched by Morgoth, and he could not withstand the power of the wraiths. As for men, they have proved gullible. Through the nine rings Sauron gained his most fearsome servants. And dwarves, yes, dwarves resisted him better, but still Sauron's malice found its way into their hearts, and they became cruel and greedy. And this is why, my friends, I would not advise you to seek out and face the Nazgul. Leave this task to the elven-folk. There are countless more foes for you to defeat".

The dwarven Prince looked deep into Elladan's clear eyes, and at long last he nodded. "You are lore-masters there in Rivendell. I would not presume to understand these things better than you, so I take your word for it, and it will have to suffice".

"Thranduil made a mistake", Haldir spoke up clearly, standing from his stool. "He should not have fought the Nazgul, and yet he did, driven by his obligation as leader or this campaign. But I would say the mistake lies with us all, for we have been blind, and we did not forewarn or deter him from going against the wraiths. We have all made a grave mistake, my friends. And now here we are, with the Elvenking captive, his son out there searching for him, and the enemy having the advantage over it all. We must think of our next moves very carefully. We should not repeat the same mistake".

Silence fell after Haldir's short speech. He had spoken plainly, and his words had hit the mark.

Then Feren cleared his throat and said, "My lords, if I may… I am no King or Prince, but only a Commander in my lord Thranduil's army, a position I share with Tinuven, who now lies grievously wounded. The situation is dire; my King is taken; my Prince is gone after him, and we are not to know when he might return. And it has fallen upon my unlikely shoulders to lead this army now. As a military officer, I must say I agree with Prince Thorin. We have to attack Dol Guldur again, and again, and again, if we must, until we exhaust the enemy's forces, and until we have recovered my King. I will cower before no evil until I see my task is done". His voice was strong with resolve and his eyes gleamed.

"Well then, are we all in agreement?" asked the Prince of Erebor, and he received nods from all his companions. "Excellent. I say we attack as soon as we finish this damn breakfast!"

* * *

They visited him with fire this time. They were the same ugly orcs, the fat and the scrawny one; he remembered them, and his stomach turned as soon as he saw them. Each of them held a wooden shaft with a flaming head on top, and the fat orc carried a bucket of water as well. Thranduil trembled, for the flames reminded him of the dragon's breath and everything that had followed.

They taunted him with insults, and they tore at what remained of his clothes, exposing now the skin of his arms and legs. The fat orc came close to his face, to the left side, the one that had been burned. The flames licked at him, but he felt nothing. What was there to be felt by tissue that was already dead?

Angered by his irresponsiveness, the scrawny orc directed his torch to his right calf. Thranduil cried in agony as his flesh burned, and a familiar, sickening odor entered his nostrils. But the orc removed the torch and splashed some water on his leg. Before the ellon had time to comprehend the sudden change of temperature, the orc was burning his arm. Again the paralyzing pain tore his heart, and again the cold water was splashed upon him, now drenching him almost completely.

The orcs looked at him and laughed. Now soaking wet, he was shivering in the cold, dank cell. Then the scrawny one made a notion to leave him be, and said that it was enough for now. The orcs left and barred the heavy door behind them.

Thranduil found himself on the floor once again. The rags that had once been his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his burned flesh and also to the wounds on his back, that were still not healing properly. His breathing came labored and erratic, his heartbeat had weakened, and his mind was hazy and unfocused. For a split moment he wondered if he was dying, if this was what death felt like. But soon he lost all conscience, and was free to wander in the dark trails of his spirit…

 _A long-forgotten memory unraveled before his mind's eye. The Elvenking and his son were taking a stroll in the gardens of his halls. He was wearing a long robe in the hues of light blue with a trim of silver thread along the collar, the sleeves and the hem, and the elfling was giggling and running all around the place. The sun was shining and the trees were in bloom, for it was spring._

 _A deep feeling of warmth arose in his heart, for only few were the chances he had to spend time in leisure with his son, and he cherished them._

" _Ada! Ada! Look! See what I can do?" little Legolas called to him, as he deftly balanced on the ledge of the fountain, but for his young age._

" _Be careful there, my elfling, lest you fall into the water", he warned him with a soft smile._

" _But you will come and save me, will you not?"_

" _Yes, if I must", Thranduil laughed._

" _Or will you abandon me to my fate, like you abandoned mother?"_

 _It was a very unchildlike voice that had spoken through little Legolas this time, but it used the child's form, and the sight disturbed Thranduil greatly. "Legolas?" he called anxiously._

" _Will you let me drown in the water, father, as you let mother drown in flames?"_

 _Thranduil was now shaking, and was bereft of words._

" _It was your fault that she died! I needed my mother! Not you, you heartless, cruel beast! You never cared about me! I hate you! You should be dead! You should have died in her stead!"_

 _Angry accusations kept flying against him like arrows, and he felt unable to defend himself. Once again, he felt bound and shackled, a toy for his assailants to do as they pleased._

" _You are foul! You are evil! You do not deserve the light of the Eldar! You do not belong here! Go and be with those who are like you!"_

 _Suddenly these words did not sound that irrational to Thranduil. Truly, Lothrin's death had been his fault, and his alone. He was heartless and cruel, caring for none but himself. He had never cared for his only son either. What hope had he to be called an Elda? His fea was made in the likeness of Morgoth's, to bask in hate and evil deeds. He did not deserve to be a King of elven-folk. He did not even deserve to reside amongst them. He should go far away and seek refuge with the Dark Lord. He would see he was one of his own. He would be magnanimous. He would take him in, protect him, and…_

With a start and a heaving breath, Thranduil jumped to alertness. The images of this nightmare were still so vivid, and the final words kept ringing and repeating themselves in his head, holding strong sway over him. The wounds on his back ached now profoundly, and in the mist of his mind Thranduil wondered whether the poison in them had a role in the forming of his nightmares… But the message of the horrid dream rang true: perhaps it was futile to resist. Perhaps this is what he was meant for, to become a servant of evil and be bathed in dark glory. Then his true worth would be acknowledged. He would be a true lord, not a lesser one, bereft of a Ring of Power and looked upon with contempt. Who were they to judge him? What knew they of his suffering? But surely the Dark Lord would embrace him; surely he would gift him a ring. Oh, what feats he would accomplish if he wielded such immense power!

 _No! I am losing my mind!_ A small voice of reason shouted in his head. A cry of anguish escaped his lungs and tore the silence of the dungeon. And then he gave himself unto weeping, face down on the dirty floor, and hands balled into fists, as despair washed over him.

"You are coming towards us, elf-king. Soon you will not be able to resist the truth of your nature anymore. Soon all lies will be dispelled, and the dark truth will shine!" the leader of the Nazgul hissed, for it was now standing in front of him, and it laughed at the Elvenking's plight and misery.

It sounded so odd and unnatural for a creature of evil to speak such words, claiming to know what truth is, when its master was the Master of deception and lies. But Thranduil possessed not the clarity of mind to acknowledge the oddity here. He could only feel the call of evil growing stronger, and he began thinking thoughts he should never have thought…


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

When Legolas and his companions finally found their way out of the dark tunnel, it came to them as a relief, for not few had been the times they were lost into smaller paths that forked out of the main one and led to dead ends. They had to face some more creatures of darkness along their way, but no serious injury had come to the elves.

Now the Prince pushed the heavy door open, and it moved with a deep rumble, the hinges rusty from disuse. One by one they stepped through, expecting to be met with the light of the day. But they came into a dark chamber instead.

"What is this place?" Tauriel wondered audibly.

Legolas took a few wary paces around. "It looks like a room in the castle, old and abandoned".

There were braziers lying broken on the floor, the furniture was scarce, broken and dusty, and there were cracks in the columns of red-veined marble that supported the vaulted ceiling. Banners and curtains belonging to a glorious time long past hung brittle and tattered, their golden trims and tufts threadbare and lusterless. A fireplace took up nearly the whole eastern wall, while the door the elves had walked through was in the southern wall, and seemed to have once been concealed by a huge tapestry, now lying ragged and faded on the floor. Maeril looked at it with sorrow; it depicted the fall of Sauron on the slopes of Orodruin. Her eyes then traveled back to the door. "I suppose this has served as a secret passage of old, for the sovereign and his family to use in a time of need", she commented thoughtfully.

"Quite right", affirmed Legolas. Then he walked to the sole window of the room and looked outside. He could see they were rather high up in a tower, and it was partially built into the rock. He followed the line of the cliff with his eyes, trying to comprehend where their starting point lay, before they entered the tunnel, but there were no clear signs. This was apparently a very cleverly built passageway. Averting his gaze from the cliff line now, he saw more towers and bridges rising ahead. The sky was grey, the darkness penetrated and torn by the first rays of light. "And now we have to find the way out", he said, turning to his friends. "We have to go downwards and to a western direction".

So, the four elves exited the old chamber and came upon a staircase. "Be careful", Tauriel warned the others. "This place might look entirely deserted, but there may be enemies lurking around in the dark".

Quietly they descended the stairs, coming into another room that was as abandoned as the first one, and then they walked along a long corridor. Some more stairs appeared for them to climb down, spiraling as they went, and then another corridor, and another chamber, and another staircase…

And then they heard noise coming from below. Foul voices, wild barks and the sound of clanking chains filled the air. Legolas lifted his hand, motioning for the others to stop. "Orcs and wargs", he whispered. "Have your weapons at the ready".

"Wait", Tauriel spoke. "Let me go see what we are up against here".

Without waiting for her Prince's permission, she darted forward, descending the remaining stairs. There she saw a vast room lit with torches upon the walls, and along each wall were numerous cages. Inside the cages rabid wargs paced impatiently, snarling menacingly. Outside the cages walked their keepers, some orcs of lower rank, who held lashes and snapped them at the bars of the cages, trying to scare and keep the wargs under control. It would seem, however, that their efforts were rather ineffective. In the center of the room was a large trapdoor, supported by thick iron chains and large hinges. Tauriel could only guess that in the chamber below more warg cages were to be found, and more orcs guarding them.

"The warg pens of Dol Guldur…" she murmured to herself. _So this is where these horrid beasts are bred and kept,_ she thought. She observed the wargs for a while, noticing the terror they inflicted upon the orcs, even though they were caged and fettered. Their eyes gleamed black and crimson, and their fangs dripped with slaver, hungry for blood. The orcs, on the other hand, were puny; clearly the most expendable of their race, useless to their Masters for any other job but guarding these cages. _They should not be too hard to dispose of,_ Tauriel thought. After assessing the situation, she quietly returned to the others. Legolas was wearing a frown, a spit image of his father at that moment.

"You should not have done that. What if you were seen?" he reprimanded her.

"But nobody saw me", she retorted with a smirk. "Listen now", she began, and described to them what she had just witnessed.

"Well, at least the wargs are in cages!" said Aeldir, as soon as the Captain was done talking.

"But there are orcs parading outside them, at least twenty or so", Tauriel responded.

"Did you see a gate? A way out?" the healer asked, already disliking that there were numerous foes in their path.

"No, but the cages seemed to be locked. The orcs looked frightened of the wargs".

"These must be just their keepers, not their riders. I do not believe they would ever dare release them, unless this was the Nazgul's command", said Legolas.

"You spoke of a trap door", Aeldir noted, directing his words to Tauriel. "I think the outer gate lies in the room below. It makes sense there is a pretty straightforward way out for the wargs, when they are unleashed. I think this is where we must go, if we are to exit this tower".

"This means we have to fight our way through…" muttered Maeril and sighed.

"Indeed", replied the guard. "No need to fear, though. I will protect you", he told her softly.

She side-glanced at him. "I am not afraid", she said defiantly. "And, moreover, I will be the one burdened with the task to treat your wounds afterwards, since you are rather reckless a fighter!"

He stood speechless for a moment, but then laughed heartily. Which was a grave mistake, of course, for the orcs heard the noise, and they abandoned the wargs, running with their lashes flying in the air towards the intruders.

"Kill them! Kill them all!" they screamed in unison, maddened with bloodlust.

Legolas and his companions jumped into fighting stance, drawing their weapons. Arrows flew and orcs were felled, but most of them managed to reach the elves. A skirmish began then, and the small fellowship found themselves with their backs against the wall, pressed by the swarming orcs. Roused by the commotion upstairs, the orcs from the room below threw open the trapdoor and rushed forth, attacking the elves in their turn.

The orcs were weak and ill-trained, and the elves would have no problem finishing them off, had it not been for their numbers. Where one fell, two more appeared and another attacked from the flank. The elves whirled around, cutting and slashing and thrusting, but the orcs closed in on them, pressing them to the wall.

And then a distant sound was heard, odd and penetrating. It was a horn, but not an orc horn.

"Did you hear that?" Aeldir cried over the uproar of the skirmish. "An elven horn!"

At once the orcs faltered, as a dark voice whispered to them, muttering obscure words in Black Speech, commanding them to see to their task and release the wargs. On trembling feet they deserted the fight and made to run to the cages and do as their lords had commanded, but they were not fast enough, and they all fell to the ground dead, one after the other, struck down by elven arrows. The barking of the wargs grew louder, as they burned to answer the call of evil, and their jaws hungered for flesh and blood, and their claws raked at the bars of the cages.

"There are fell voices in the air…" whispered Tauriel, shivering.

"It is the Nazgul, dominating the minds of their servants", Legolas explained. "But come quickly now. This is our chance to escape!" he called, as he shot down the last of the orcs.

He then ran forward and to the trapdoor, with the others following close behind. There was a reclining platform beneath it, and at the end of the room were large, iron gates.

"Oh no! How are we to unlock them?" cried Maeril.

But then the gates opened, as the guards outside pulled at them, believing they would be releasing the wargs. To their awful surprise, though, four armed elves leapt through and quickly killed three of them. The fourth Legolas kept under his dagger.

"You foul orc! You will tell me where King Thranduil is kept or I will end your worthless life!" he growled.

"Never! Elf-scum! Never!" spat the orc.

The Prince pressed the blade in its throat, drawing some blood, and the orc squealed in misery and fear. "Tell me, and I might spare your life!"

"He is... He is in the dungeons… The Masters… have him", gurgled the orc, cowering, his moment of courage gone.

"Where are the dungeons?" Tauriel asked impatiently.

"They are... ugh! Please…!"

"Speak!" Legolas barked.

"Beneath… the northern tower… Seat of the Masters…"

These were the last words the orc spoke, for Legolas quickly cut his throat. Then the elves dragged the corpses inside and hid behind the great doors, in order to regroup. In the distance, the forces of the enemy were rapidly gathering and moving towards the northwest.

"This is a summons to battle", Legolas stated. "Our allies must be attacking. But we have little time in our disposal. It will not be long before the absence of the wargs will be noticed and the Nazgul take wind of what happened here. We must take advantage of the forthcoming battle and find my father, now that the enemy will be preoccupied", he urged.

"Surely our friends in Thangulhad decided to launch this assault in order to help us act more freely", Tauriel pointed out. "I know Elladan well enough to be certain that he would seek out any possible way to aid us".

"Or maybe it was Thorin", the Prince riposted under a raised eyebrow. "Dwarves are not known to sit idly by when there is a battle to contend with".

The Captain looked at him and was just about to speak, when a second horn was blown, and its sound was deeper and longer than the first. The distant beating of war drums followed.

"A dwarven horn, and the drums of Erebor", Tauriel realized. But the angry snarling of the wargs behind reminded her they were running out of time. "And now we must find lord Thranduil. The orc said the dungeons are beneath the northern tower, if we can trust its words", she muttered, and peeked outside. "I can see a tall tower rising through the fog towards the north, partially concealed by a ruined bridge. This must be it".

Without another prompt, the elves cautiously left the warg pens and made for said tower, moving like shadows and hiding behind rocks and ruins. The ground was sown with thorny bushes and dead saplings, but nothing could slow them down, for their spirits were resolved and driven by their cause. All the while, waves of foul creatures emerged from all sides, and marched westwards, answering their masters' command and the call to battle. Dark and ominous clouds hang low, and the mist had now descended upon the ground, concealing friend from foe. The elves held their breaths as they went, and they shivered in that chill and hostile place, wishing the orc had not lied.

Beneath the broken bridge they walked and around its ruins, and at last the northern tower appeared before them, its impressive height looming overhead like an oppressive presence. The banners of the Nazgul hung upon its spires, decrepit and torn, emerging through the mist like black ghosts, still like ever-vigilant guardians. Spectral greenish light flickered in the domed windows, coming and going in the blink of an eye.

The sight of the place left the small fellowship with no doubt. That was where the Nazgul had their seat, and they had to find a way in.

* * *

The second assault on the Ringwraiths' lair had just begun, but back in the camp of the free peoples in Thangulhad things were rather quiet, as the healers took care of the wounded soldiers and were preparing to treat more later in the day. The spirits of everyone were low; they had hoped for a swift victory, but they had lost the Elvenking instead, and the enemy was strong and still posing resistance. Not few were those who had begun questioning the rationality of the initiative for this campaign, and were now considering it folly.

Amidst such atmosphere walked Elhedril, as she made for the healers' tent. She had asked Haldir to allow her to stay behind and look after Tinuven, and he had not objected. In fact, his heart was put at ease when she made her request, for he much preferred for his cousin to remain safe.

Upon entering, she saw the lady Alfirimbes. She had her back turned towards the entrance, and was lightly bent upon a small table, preparing an ointment mixture. The fragrance of athelas filled the air, and the young elleth breathed it in deeply, letting it revive her senses.

The chief healer heard her entering, and he glanced at her from over her shoulder. "Oh, Elhedril", she greeted her quietly. "I had not expected you here at this hour".

"My lady", said the guard timidly and bowed her head a little. "I would rather sit beside Tinuven than fight nameless foes. How is he faring? Can I see him?" she asked with a gleam of hope in her honey-brown eyes.

Alfirimbes shook her head. "He is awake and stable, but not strong yet. The Morgul wound is still ailing him. But I do not see why you should not go to him. Come", she invited her, and walked into another chamber.

There was the Commander, lying upon a narrow cot, asleep. "Tinuven…" Elhedril whispered and made to walk to the bed, but his mother caught her arm.

"Wait. Take this", she said, handing her the bowl with the ointment. "Apply it on the wound, as soon as he wakes. It will soothe his ache", she explained, and then looked at her son and sighed with sorrow. "He still has a long way to travel before he is healed… if he is ever truly healed".

Not speaking another word, she spared a final glance to Elhedril and then walked out of the room, leaving her alone with Tinuven. The young guard slowly went and knelt beside the cot, placing the bowl on the bedside table. She observed his sleeping form; his face looked peaceful, though drawn and pale from sickness and exhaustion. His raven-black tresses were unorderly spilled upon the thin pillow, and his tunic was open in the front, revealing many layers of bandages over his left shoulder and arm. A dark and foul-smelling liquid seeped through the wounds and stained the dressing; Elhedril did not like the sight of it at all, and worry crept anew in her heart.

Pulling the covers a bit to the side, she reached for his healthy limb, and took his hand in hers. The touch made him stir, and deep green eyes laboriously fluttered open. He turned his head towards her, and he saw her smiling at him through her teary eyes.

"Elhedril…" he managed hoarsely.

"My love… You are awake", she murmured lovingly, and caressed his hand. He responded by twining his fingers with hers. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired…" he breathed, and closed his eyes wearily. "My left arm is numb… And if I try to move it, it pains me terribly", he spoke frankly.

Elhedril nodded, feeling at a loss. She was on the verge of despair, but she fought not to let it show. Then she remembered the bowl on the table, and took it. "Your mother gave me this ointment… May I change the dressing of the wound? Athelas will alleviate your pain somewhat", she offered.

He eyed the concoction, and then said, "Yes, do as you must".

The elleth began peeling the bandages one by one, slowly and with great care so as not to hurt him. They were sticky and odorous, and Tinuven turned his head to the other side, pressing his eyes shut and frowning, trying to withstand the pain. Elhedril admired his self-control and restraint, even at the hour of physical weakness, and brought her free hand to stroke his hair. "You have nothing to prove to me, my heart… I know you are in great pain… But it is only me here. You can relax", she coaxed him tenderly.

Tinuven opened his eyes and looked at her, as she removed the final bandage, and the wound was revealed. "It is bad, is it not?" he weakly asked, and the depths of his eyes trembled.

Elhedril stared at the wound. It was deep and ran almost to the entire length of his arm, from wrist to shoulder, while smaller gashes were here and there. Tissue fluids mixed with blood, blackened with Morgul poison, oozed out of it. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, and she remained still for some moments.

Studying her reaction, Tinuven sighed and looked away. "It is really bad, then", he murmured stoically, answering his own question.

The elleth woke from her stupor and reached for a clean compress. She dipped it in the ointment and then applied it on the wound. He winced and grunted, but managed not to move. "I am sorry… I am so, so very sorry…" she uttered helplessly, her tears now rapidly blurring her vision.

"If I die…"

"No! No you will not die!" she protested.

"If I die", he repeated calmly, ignoring her words, "I fear my mother will not be able to bear it. She lost my father not so long ago… And now this… It will be the end of her", he said bitterly. "I failed her. I failed my King. And I failed myself", he lamented.

"No, Tinuven… You have not failed anyone. You are strong and brave, and you will live through this. Your spirit is strong; I can feel it calling to mine. How can you ever abandon hope? How can you say such words? Please, for me, my love, do not lose your courage… For now you need it most. We both do", she pleaded.

The Commander sighed deeply, but spoke no more. The guard continued with her task and then dressed the wound with clean bandages. Dreadful thoughts danced in her head. _What if he truly dies? How will I survive without him? No, Tinuven, my heart… Please, you must fight to live! For me, and for your dear mother. You are all she has… And I love you so much! Our life has not even begun yet…_

Sensing her inner turmoil, he squeezed her hand. Startled, her eyes darted to meet his. "I never said I will give up", he tried to reassure her. "If there is one thing I know how to do, it is to fight".

A weak smile lit her face, and she bent her head to lightly kiss his lips. He responded in kind, and for a long moment they remained joined chastely thus, until Elhedril pulled back. He peered deep into her eyes with longing. "I wish we had been more fortunate".

"There is always hope". She took his hand and kissed it. "Where there is love, there is always hope".

"My sweet lady… I wish I were truly worthy of you", he murmured, and made to turn to her, but his wound shot jolts of pain through him, and he fell back grimacing miserably.

"Please, do not exert yourself. I will call your mother… She should check the dressing; I am not sure if I have done it properly".

"It is fine", he replied, breathing deeply, trying to steady his heartbeat. "But I could do with some milk of the poppy. It eases my ache and helps me sleep".

Elhedril nodded, and then stood up. "Rest well, my love… I will return later to see you again", she promised him, smoothing out the hair from his face.

He managed a smile. "And I will wait".

* * *

Lord Elrond walked out onto the balcony of his chambers, looking grim, and a frown was upon his brow. It had only been a short while ago when he received a message from his son. A raven had reached him and spoken to him of the Elvenking's disappearance and Legolas' plan to rescue him. He came to stand by the balustrade, lightly propping himself upon it, while his grey eyes were cast on the waterfall in the distance. But his gaze was unfocused, for he was deep in thought.

Apprehension and sorrow gripped his heart to learn of this news, and he instantly knew he had to ride to Dol Guldur. For even if the Prince was successful in his quest, there was no telling what the state of Thranduil would be and what kind of help he might need. He could not linger in Imladris; reluctant as he might be to bring the power of Vilya so close to the Nazgul and to revelation, he knew he had to take the road south.

He turned his gaze over the treetops, their line now a darkening smudge against the blazing sky of sundown. The waterfall produced the only sound at that hour, and the sprays of the foaming waters filled the air with an aura of freshness and clarity. _Such beauty… All doomed to fade one day. Is this day truly come?_ Elrond wondered in his musings.

" _It will all fade one day, for our time here is ending",_ a regal, female voice spoke in his mind, and it was a voice Elrond knew all too well.

"Galadriel…" he uttered.

" _The war has already begun. Will we abandon Middle-Earth to its fate?"_ she asked him, as if she wished to test his will.

" _We are part of Middle-Earth; we are its guardians",_ he replied mentally.

" _Indeed. And it has fallen upon us to choose wisely. The Elvenking is being kept by the Shadow. Already his servants are instilling their will into his broken spirit. It will not be long before they dominate him. You know this…"_

The Lord of Imladris sighed and momentarily closed his eyes. Not few were the times he had had visions concerning the Elvenking, and most of them had been dark and worrisome. Slowly he left his standing spot on the balcony, glancing one last time at the setting sun, and he walked inside, beneath the arches of his chambers.

" _You will ride to Dol Guldur…"_ Galadriel said in a matter-of-fact manner.

" _Yes"._ It was almost as if he could see her smile. _"I feel that Thranduil will need my aid, if he survives this. And the Nazgul are not an enemy to trifle with"._

" _But not for you. Not for a Ringbearer",_ she remarked pointedly.

Elrond lowered his gaze and his frown deepened. " _I hope it will not come to that. The Rings must yet remain secret"._

" _Still, you are willing to take that risk for the sake of the Elvenking"._

" _And for the sake of all life on Middle-Earth._ _He still has an important role to play in the war against evil. We cannot allow Sauron to turn him into one of his pawns. If Thranduil falls, all of the North will fall. We cannot allow him this victory"._

" _I have looked into the Elvenking's heart, and saw pain and regret, but also hope and love. Whatever taint there may be in his essence, inflicted by Morgoth, it does not define him. And it must not be allowed to grow unhindered and consume him"_ , Galadriel firmly stated.

Elrond took a deep breath. _"We will not allow Sauron to corrupt him. I will ride to his aid. He is a just King, and he shares our love for this land"._

" _Our love for this land is deeper than the depths of the sea…"_ she breathed, and her voice carried the wisdom and sadness of ages gone. _"Ever we are bound to its fate. But we also have the power to affect it. The Three Rings have been entrusted to us to use wisely, Elrond, and wisdom has accompanied you all of your long life. You have my trust"._

With that Galadriel withdrew from his mind. Elrond took a few paces until he came to an open window. Some mystical words he whispered in the wind, and in a few moments a raven flew down and landed onto the ledge. Its feathers were black and glistening, and his clever eyes shone like beads of amethyst. It cocked its head to Elrond, listening carefully to what he said, and then in an instant it was gone. News would soon arrive to Thangulhad of his impending arrival. If only it served to alleviate their troubled hearts a little.

* * *

" _Bring her forth"._

 _Thranduil's command reverberated in the throne room, and the guard sought to obey. Tauriel was then led before him, bound and weaponless, but with her head held high in defiance. Even in that moment of her trial, she defied him. She resisted him._

" _Tauriel Elboroniel, Captain of the Realm's Guard, you are brought before our King to answer for your crime. What have to plead?" Iaurvir, the head of the Council spoke._

 _But then the Elvenking raised his hand and motioned for him to be silent, and so the councilor bowed his head and stepped into the shadows beneath the King's throne. Slowly then Thranduil rose from his high seat, his imposing height accentuated further by his tall crown of branches and leaves, and he gazed down at Tauriel with contempt and disdain._

" _You drew your bow against me, and many were the witnesses. Would you deny this?" he began._

" _No"._

" _Was your intention to take my life?"_

" _My intention was to block your way. If I had to release that arrow, in order to achieve that, then I would", she answered him fearlessly._

" _What you did is an act of treason. Do you acknowledge that?" he went on, retaining his cold and collected manner. He spoke in a way so detached, that one might think it had not been not him whom Tauriel had threatened to kill, but someone else, and he had only been burdened with the carrying out of the tedious task of passing judgement unto her._

" _I do"._

" _Will you not show regret and remorse for your ill-thought acts and choices? Do so, and I might be lenient"._

 _She stared hard at him before answering. His eyes were of steel and ice, showing no trace of compassion or kindness. Her lips drew into a thin line then, and she became firmer in her persuasion._

" _No. I need no leniency, for I do not regret what I did", she spat._

 _Anger rose inside him like a flame. "You foolish elfling! You have brought doom upon yourself! Remove her from my sight, never to be seen in my kingdom again, not whilst I live!" he bellowed, and then waved his hand for the guards to take her._

" _The doom is on you and you alone, Elvenking! For you are forever cursed and devoid of love. You shall never know peace in your miserable kingdom, nor shall your icy heart ever rest! A thousand curses upon you for the lives you destroyed, and a thousand more for the help you could have given but refused! May you meet your death in flames, and may your kingdom burn with you!"_

Thranduil's body jolted awake, the last words of Tauriel's curse still echoing in his thoughts. It sounded distantly familiar, as if he had heard them before, but he could not place it, for his mind was hazy. He blinked and tried to raise his body from the floor, but found it difficult. His throat felt dry, and his muscles weak. Dehydration and malnourishment had taken their toll on him, for he had succumbed to taking a few sips of the foul water to keep himself alive. Tremors often shook him, and fever made him lose consciousness with an increasing frequency. The wounds on his back were now dried of blood, but the poison had well done its work.

He did not know how much longer he would last.

How long had it been now? A day? A fortnight? An eon? There was no way he could tell, for time seemed insignificant in his dark dungeon. And whenever he closed his eyes, nightmares plagued him, distorting his memories, abusing them and turning them into a tool for the shadow to claim him. And whenever he would wake, the leader of the Nazgul would be standing there, in front of him. As it did now.

"You cannot resist any longer, elf-king. The darkness inside you has grown. I can see it!" it screeched.

"There is no light for me anymore…" he wearily said.

"No, there is not. Your fate is to embrace the darkness… Embrace the powers of our Master!"

"He is calling… That voice… so strong and persistent… I cannot get it out of my head", Thranduil cried.

"It is the Voice we all hearken to. It is the only Voice you shall hear henceforth!" bellowed the wraith victoriously.

"He is so powerful… And I know not who I am anymore… My memories… They are fading", he whispered in dread.

For what he had dreamed had indeed been a memory, and yet not so. A weak voice inside him told him that he had not punished Tauriel after her treacherous act, but he had chosen to forgive her. _But why would I ever do that?_ He wondered. _Why would I ever forgive a traitor, who deserved banishment, if not death? It makes no sense. This voice in my head is false. Surely I must have punished that traitor!_

The Nazgul loomed over him, watching him closely, as it perceived his wayward thoughts, and it leered and sneered in malice, for it could see the fulfilment of their vile purpose was nigh.

 _Who dared defy me? No one should ever dare defy me, the mighty Elvenking! I will punish all traitors by death as soon as I return to my kingdom. My realm I will make into one of glory. No need of foolish and weak allies have I. Their lands I will conquer, and their lords I will have as vassals to pay homage to me and serve me. My armies will grow in number, and fortifications I will raise all around, for nobody ever to set foot in my kingdom again. And then they will all know my wrath, and my terrible power! Everyone will bow before me, and they will behold me in my terrible majesty! My name will strike terror into everyone's hearts! All shall fear me and despair!_

Propping himself on his hands and knees, he slowly lifted his head. His dirty hair, bereft now of their silver shine, cascaded like shredded curtains, framing his emaciated and gaunt face and casting deep shadows upon it. A vicious grin curled his mouth, and his ice-cold eyes glowed with hatred and pure evil. Slowly he rose to his feet, and he gazed deep into the Nazgul's formless blackness without fear. It breathed in anticipation, waiting, its fingers clasping the hilt of the Morgul blade, as the silence expanded between them.

And then Thranduil's lips parted, and he whispered, "I am ready".


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

On the grounds of Dol Guldur a bloody battle was raging. The warriors of Elladan, Thorin, Brand and Feren had challenged their enemies, and they had answered the call. Bravely the free peoples fought, but the foul creatures still held their own against them, for they felt the sway of evil greatly, and it drove them to fight with frenzied might. But the battle had been going on for hours, and now the tactics had given their place to close combat, ruled by the strength and fury of the combatants, rather than the command of the captains. A grey rain began falling just as the sun took to its nether course, adding a mournful tone to the battlefield, which was filled with the screams of the wounded and the pleas of the dying.

Below the ground, however, little of the commotion above could be heard, and that was where Legolas and his friends were now. For they had managed to find the entrance to the north tower, and after killing some unsuspecting guards, they made their way to the lower levels and to the dungeons. Now, the dungeons were deep into the earth, and built like a true labyrinth. One could easily get lost there.

Looking around her as they went, Tauriel noticed that these caverns and tunnels were not of elf-make. Surely the enemy made these cells here to hold their prisoners, and to keep them under the direct surveillance of the Nazgul. Thranduil had to be somewhere here. She had to trust to hope. They had come too close now to give themselves unto despair. _We will soon find him, and we will save him,_ she kept telling herself. Glancing at Legolas every now and then helped her retain her courage, for he look determined and unafraid. His clear eyes shone with the fire of his purpose, and Tauriel looked at her friend and tried to shake off the sickening feeling that had arisen in the pit of her stomach, for a dark sense of foreboding had overwhelmed her from the moment they entered the dungeons. _If only nothing ill has befallen Thranduil…_

Deeper and deeper they went, but as of yet there was no sign of the Elvenking. The dungeon pathways were mostly empty; only a few orcs patrolled here and there. Clearly, every creature in Dol Guldur had been summoned to battle, and only few remained to guard the captives. The elves had little trouble dispatching any orc that crossed their way, but they were walking blindly, having no clue as to where Thranduil was held.

"How can we ever hope to find lord Thranduil here? This place is a maze. All cells and all passages look the same. We are utterly lost", whimpered Maeril.

"Do not lose heart", said Legolas.

The elves passed quite a few cells in their way, all barred with heavy doors. They were almost windowless, save for a small square opening in their upper half, which closed with a sliding shutter and served as a way to deliver food and water to the prisoner. Tauriel did not pass one such shutter without looking inside first. Most of the cells were empty, while some wild men and even unruly orcs inhabited others. Legolas tried to call his father's name a few times, but he had to be careful not to shout loudly, lest they give away their position and be discovered by the enemy.

Many hours they wandered there, hopeless and lost. For the pathways of the dungeons were dark indeed and forked out into many directions. Upon such a crossing of paths they stood now, uncertain of which passage to follow next, when a deep rumble was heard in the distance, and the earth below them trembled.

"What was that? An earthquake?" Aeldir worried, looking very alarmed.

A second rumble then disturbed the silence, and it lasted much longer than the first. The sound of chains breaking and walls crumbling accompanied the rumble, and apprehension gripped the hearts of the elves.

"No, mellon nin. I fear it is something much worse than that", muttered Legolas, and his brow furrowed.

A flickering light deep in the tunnel ahead attracted their attention, and it was a sickly , pale light, unsteady and cold. "Look!" Tauriel whispered under her breath. "Something is there!"

"And it is coming closer!" the healer cried, as the light grew larger in diameter and appeared to be approaching them. "It is coming for us!" she frantically yelled.

"We must take cover!" Legolas shouted over the noise of the rumble, and led his companions behind the turn of the path.

For a few moments they waited in utmost silence, with their breaths caught in their throats, and none would speak, for fear of inviting the enemy to them. An eerie chill permeated the air around them, and a glow came brighter and brighter through the tunnel. Hissing voices filled the air, whispering in nameless tongues, dark and malicious, and a sense of dread overwhelmed the elves.

 _Something is coming for us, and it is terrible,_ thought Legolas. _And we are trapped here._ His heart was beating like a drum in his chest, and his fingers were clasping his daggers nervously. What was this they would soon be up against? Would they be able to remain unseen?

And then a dark figure emerged from the domed passageway. Black robes it wore, and they trailed in rags behind it. Walking forth, it held a black blade aloft, and the blade emanated an aura of evil intent.

 _A Nazgul,_ the Captain mused, appalled and shivering. _What is it doing here?_

But her question was soon answered, for a few paces behind the wraith came another figure. Tall he was, and long, grey hair fell about him, obscuring his face. His garb was blackened and torn, and from his shoulders hung a decrepit cloak in hideous shreds. His wrists and ankles were ironbound, but the chains were broken, and only the shackles remained. He walked with a drag, and in his hands he held twin swords, their tips pointed down towards the ground. About him was that deathly gloom, and it followed his every step forth.

Tauriel's heart clenched violently at the sight, and she bit hard down on her lip to choke a scream and a sob. Her fingers dug into Legolas' shoulder, and he glanced at her, sharing her pained and desperate look. Another look at the bleak figure, who was none other than Thranduil, drove her mad with despair, and she made to jump out of their hiding place and run to him. But the Prince's hand shot out and grasped her arm, preventing her from committing folly. She turned to him with a wild look in her eyes, while tears brimmed in their corners. His lips quivered, and he had to blink to fight back his own tears, but he brought a finger before his mouth, gesturing for her to remain silent and keep her calm.

Soon the Nazgul led the Elvenking along the passageway, and they seemed to take no notice of the hidden elves. When they had distanced themselves satisfactorily, Legolas motioned for his friends to follow them quietly. Tauriel was frozen in her place, tears now running hot and free down her cheeks and blurring her vision, and the Prince had to pull at her sleeve to make her walk.

Blindly she followed, and she could not tell how or when they came out of the cursed labyrinth, for suddenly her eyes were met with the harsh light of day, and her face was wetted by the thick raindrops, as the Nazgul led Thranduil and their secret followers out of the dungeons. The distant clamor of battle filled the air now, and they were walking towards the battle itself.

Then the wraith stopped and turned to Thranduil, and the elves could hear it in the distance, saying, "This is your hour! Serve our Master!"

Thranduil bowed his head slowly. The Nazgul then lifted its blade and pointed to the west. He started walking in that direction, his identical swords still hovering by his sides. But his pace was slow and mechanical, as if he was not the lord of his own will and thought, but his actions were dictated by his masters.

"What did it do? Did it command him to fight?" asked Aeldir in a whispering tone, and watched anxiously the Elvenking as he obeyed the Nazgul.

"So it would seem…" murmured Legolas with a sigh, glancing at his father from behind a large piece of ruin, where they had hidden.

Tauriel collapsed, delivering herself unto uncontrollable sobs, and Maeril watched her miserably. "There is nothing we can do for him now, is it?" the healer asked in a defeated tone.

"My father is taken by evil", Legolas bitterly admitted. "I had dreaded that the most, and yet it happened". He brought up a hand to brush away a tear. "His spirit was not strong enough. He yielded, and now he is a weapon in the hands of the enemy".

"All is lost", cried Tauriel through her sobs. "He is lost…"

"Can we not try to confront them? We cannot just abandon hope!" Aeldir said, his voice a mixture of sorrow and anger.

"The Nazgul is here, and it holds sway over my father. We do not know yet how powerful he is, and it would be folly to just expose ourselves thus. But what we can do is warn the others, before my father reaches them. Something tells me that if he does reach them, the results will be devastating", said Legolas, breathing deeply, trying to calm his heart and think reasonably. "Come, Tauriel, stand", he urged her, pulling her to her feet. She showed little resistance. "And wipe those tears. The time for weeping is not now". The Captain looked at him, drawing courage from his, and she weakly nodded, brushing away her tears.

Legolas then glanced at the other two, who were awaiting his word. "And now follow me. May we reach the others in time. May we not fail yet again".

* * *

Swift like the wind rode Elrond, stopping for no rest, and only occasionally nibbling on some lembas bread, sat astride his steed as he was. His haste was great, for disturbing visions he had seen the night before he departed.

He had decided to glance into Thranduil's future once more, unable to push aside the sense of dread and worry that had been born in his heart after he had received the message from his son. For the lord of Imladris knew the terror of the Nazgul – he had faced them before, and he knew what horrible doom they could visit upon their captives.

In his vision the Elvenking was pale and gaunt, and wandering aimlessly in the charred ruins of Dol Guldur. There was death all around him; corpses of elves, men, dwarves and orcs alike. His clothes were tattered and his gaze empty, betraying no emotion. He surveyed the battlefield, heedless of where he stepped, and he seemed to almost float above the ground. So eerie and unnatural was he in his movement and countenance, that Elrond was deeply disturbed, and he instantly knew that things did not bode well for Thranduil. It was his deepest fear that the Nazgul had at last managed to turn him into one of their own.

Harder he spurred his horse, and the noble steed responded with a faster gallop. The scenery of mountains and trees became a colorful blur as he sped along the Anduin. Tightly he gripped at the reins, and the pressure of the leather against the metallic band on his finger reminded him of the presence of his ring and its powers. _Vilya… if only I will not need to use it,_ Elrond wished in his heart. _And if only I reach them in time, for if not, no power in this Middle-Earth will be enough to revert the evils done._

Far to the west appeared now the eaves of Mirkwood, dark and covered in that permanent, eldritch mist. Elrond led his horse in that direction, and the shadow of the forest grew larger still as he went _. It brings me such grief to see now what has become of what once was Eryn Galen. Will it ever be restored to its former beauty and purity?_ He mused. _But my task is different now, for Greenwood needs its King restored before it in turn can be restored._

"Noro lim, Silevon! Run beneath the boughs and leap over stone and grass. Noro lim, for the hour is dire and I am needed", he gently urged his steed to spring forth, sensing its fear and reluctance to enter the dark forest as they approached it.

Dol Guldur was not too far now. The lord of Imladris could already feel the evil spreading from the south, and the sense of foreboding that nestled in his heart became more intense. _If only the images in my vision will not come to pass. If only I am not too late._

* * *

When Legolas and Tauriel finally found Elladan, the battle had started to turn in favor of the free peoples. The Prince had previously given command to Aeldir to escort Maeril back to the camp in safety, for there was no reason for her to risk her life needlessly now.

Elladan was bloodied and dirty when Legolas beheld him, but his face was flustered with the wild glee of winning a battle. He was cutting through orcs like a knife cuts through butter, when the Prince of Mirkwood came running to him with Tauriel on his tail, and called, "Elladan! Praise be to the Valar, I have found you at last!"

He turned to him in surprise, after kicking an orc in the belly to free his sword, which had just penetrated the creature's chest. "Legolas? Tauriel? How came you here? I thought you were searching for lord Thranduil!"

Legolas hastily pulled the other ellon behind a large piece of ruin, so that they should be able to speak. "And indeed we have found him. My friend, we have little time, so listen to me", he said in urgency, and in truth he was breathless. "My father is under the sway of the Nazgul. He obeys their command. He has orders to strike against us, and we do not know yet what his newfound evil powers are".

Elladan's handsome face grew gloomy. "You bring awful tidings, mellon nin. What are we to do?"

"Whatever we do, we must not harm him… Perhaps there is still a chance to save him", Legolas responded in a tone that betrayed much sorrow and little hope.

"I understand your place… and that you cling to hope, though dim it may be. What should we do then? Go back in our trail and retreat? We are winning this battle", Elladan protested.

"Everything may change once my father enters the battlefield. Would you risk the lives of your warriors?" the Prince countered.

"We might be able to contain him", the other offered.

"Not without having to fight him first. Elladan, I cannot have my father killed…"

"Even if we avoid this confrontation now, we will not be able to avoid it a second time. What difference will it make?" Elladan argued.

"We will be better prepared, and your father may be here by then as well", Legolas replied.

At that Elladan fell silent, and stood thoughtful. Legolas was looking at him with impatience and tension in his stare, which only grew greater the longer the other took to speak.

"Elladan…" Tauriel began gently. "Please consider-"

She had no time to finish her sentence, as the air was torn by the vile screech of the Nazgul. Lifting their eyes, the warriors saw the black shadow perched upon a high tower.

"We are too late", whispered Legolas.

"We must run to the front quickly. Perhaps, if Thranduil sees us, he will recognize us", said Tauriel with a small flicker of hope in her eyes.

"I doubt he will, but we have to confront him now nonetheless", Elladan offered his opinion. "Follow me".

At that the three elves jumped forth and, leaping over rock and ruin and slaying every foe that came across them, they made their way to the battlefront. There the line of the warriors was not broken, and elves, men and dwarves alike fought side by side, pushing the enemy back, step by step gaining ground, while the arrows of the Galadhrim flew above their heads and embedded themselves in the necks and chests of the foul creatures of Dol Guldur.

But then there in the distance appeared Thranduil, walking slowly, as if in hypnosis, his mind and will controlled by the dark power of Sauron and his servants. The wraith that stood on the tower was soon joined by the remaining two, and it raised its blade. "Behold your doom", its voice filled the air, hissing and seeping like poison in the minds of the warriors. Below walked the Elvenking, and as the Nazgul spoke, he raised his swords.

"There he is!" cried Tauriel, her heart sinking at the dreadful sight of her lover, for he was unrecognizable indeed and terrifying to look at. Next to her, Legolas clutched his bow anxiously. He would loathe to use it against his father, but what if it in the end came to that? Would he be able to shoot an arrow at him?

All movement in the battlefield ceased. The orcs awaited their leader's command, and the warriors' blood ran cold in their veins to behold the Elvenking so unexpectedly and in such a state.

Then the leader of the three screeched in malice, and the echo of its voice fell like a deathly shroud upon the place.

"Go forth, and claim these lives for our Master!" it commanded Thranduil.

He wielded his swords then in a circular motion, and a pale aura took form around him. Lunging forward, he was ready to sweep through the crowd, when Legolas ran to him and called, "Father! Stop!"

The Elvenking turned his head towards the voice, and he blinked, as if he was indeed trying to recognize the person the voice belonged to. Legolas walked closer still, but with great precaution. His father's face was twisted, and he was tormented with inner struggle.

"Ada!" he called again. "It is me, your son. Do you not know me?"

Thranduil stared at him, still and unmoving. The Captain then found her courage and stepped next to Legolas, while Elladan still waited behind, wary and alert, with his sword at the ready.

"My lord? Can you recognize us?" she timidly asked him.

"Enough with this mockery! I command you to slay them all!" yelled the Nazgul.

At once Thranduil's gaze darkened, and he obeyed the order, going against Legolas with his sword. The young elf repelled the strike, but did not attack in turn. Soon the two were engaged in a deadly dance, with the father dropping blow after blow, sharp blades flashing and skills honed by the countless years of practice, and the son deflecting them, with pain and despair written all over his face, for he did not wish to harm his father, but he saw no signs of recognition either.

The battle then resumed, as the Ringwraith bellowed to its minions to kill their assailants. Elladan found the chance to go to Tauriel, who had stood aside, watching in terror the fight between Thranduil and Legolas. She was feeling numb and helpless, as her hopes quickly faded, for she had truly hoped that their images would have evoked traces of reminiscence and recognition in her King.

"Tauriel! We must help Legolas!" he urged.

And truly, the Prince was cumbering under Thranduil's unnatural strength, and was also hindered by his own decision to abstain from harming his father unless it was absolutely necessary. But Thranduil shared none of his concerns, and soon he pushed his son on the ground, ready to drive his sword through his chest. Legolas lifted his dagger and countered the blow, albeit weakly. His vision was blurred by the rain, but still he could see the icy glare of his father, and the hatred that had awoken in his heart through the dark manipulations of the Nazgul. Nothing would stop him now, for it was clear he was completely lost to evil.

"Ada… I know you are in there! Stop this!" he cried, but truly he felt despondent and forlorn, as the last shards of hope faded from his heart.

"Thranduil! You will not harm your own son!" Tauriel shouted at him frantically, and, nearly blinded by her own tears, she lunged against him, knocking him off balance. Angered, Thranduil grabbed her by the throat and tossed her aside as if she was nothing but a rag doll. Worried, Elladan ran to her, as Thranduil turned his attention back to Legolas. But the young elf was back on his feet and waiting for him, his bow drawn now and a deadly arrow ready to be released.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes, beholding the aggressive stance of his son. Then a sneer distorted his gaunt face, and slowly he began pacing towards Legolas, raising his swords as he went. The Prince stepped backwards, the bow tensing beneath his fingers; he trembled, but drew the bowstring tighter still. "Father, I beseech you for the last time. End this!" he cried. A few more steps and then he would have to do what he most dreaded and hated.

"Thranduil, no!" Tauriel screamed, but he ignored her completely. She made to run to the dueling pair, but Elladan held her at place. She clung to him with despair, feeling her heart being ripped from her chest.

But the final blow was not meant to be given then. "Enough!" shrieked the Lieutenant of Dol Guldur, and, accompanied by the other two wraiths, it abandoned its high place and landed onto the battlefield. "I tire of this game. Meet your doom now", it hissed with venom. The warriors stepped back in terror, as the Nazgul advanced. They called Thranduil to their side, and he obeyed, paying no more heed to Legolas and the others.

It was as if time had stood still then. A light wind took up and swirled leaf and dust off of the ground. On silent feet walked the four servants of Sauron, and to the right and left they swept their blades, dealing death in their wake. A dark aura surrounded them, and grey clouds hang low in the sky, battering the ground mercilessly with heavy rain. Nobody dared go against them, and all fled before them. Thranduil used his swords to send blasting waves across the battlefield. The ground shook and rocks fell from the high towers and bridges, and many warriors fell to the knees, trembling with fear. "Do you not know death, when you see it?" the evil leader spoke with arrogance, and the rest repeated the words over and over like a horrid echo as they took life after life, sowing the barren ground with corpses and watering it with fresh blood, mortal and immortal alike. _Do you not know death, when you see it?_

 _We must fall back, lest we all die here,_ thought Elladan. _This is not a fight we can win, not now, not like this._ "Retreat!" he called to the warriors, his clear voice a stark contrast to the hissing of the evil creatures. "Retreat!" the leaders of the free peoples reiterated the command.

Abandoning their positions, they fell back, hasting to escape the black fortress and the ominous presence of the servants of evil. But even as they fled, the Nazgul spoke with cursing words. "There is no light that can break the darkness. No power can stand against the might of our Master. You have no hope here, elf-folk. Even now you fade. Soon you will be gone from the world, your kingdoms will crumble to dust, and our Lord will be the Master of Arda", it declared victoriously, slaying the last of its opponents that remained.

And then Dol Guldur was once again bare and void of life. The free peoples fled to Thangulhad to lick their wounds, and all manner of foul creature that inhabited the fortress crawled back into their caves and nests. The Nazgul disappeared into the tower, and Thranduil followed close behind them.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The mood was heavy and foul in the Prince's tent, for there it was that all the leaders were gathered now. Only a few hours had passed since they returned from Dol Guldur, after having suffered a terrible defeat. All the more, the Elvenking was now a servant of the enemy as well.

"Half of the force I marched from Erebor has perished", mumbled Thorin Stonehelm mournfully, folding his strong arms over his chest and eyeing idly the goblet of mead that was served to him, for he had no appetite to either eat or drink.

"I do not fare better", added Brand of Dale with a sigh. "We came here to drive off the evil from that fortress, but we have utterly failed".

"Perhaps we should revisit our strategy", offered Haldir.

"What is there to be done that we have not tried already? Our soldiers fought and bled and died, and all for naught!" yelled the dwarf in agitation.

"Do not lose hope, Prince Thorin", Elladan spoke gently from his chair.

"How can you ask me to not lose hope? What hope is left after today? Will you ask us to fight until every last of us is dead?" he argued, now anger flaring in his deep eyes.

"Do you imply that we should abandon the campaign, whilst my father is still a captive of the Nazgul?" Legolas retorted, feeling offended.

"Your father nearly obliterated us earlier. I understand your position, but we have no more soldiers to spare", Brand stated firmly. "Dale is still a growing kingdom. I cannot go back to my King father with only a handful of the men that marched off, and defeated at that. We need our men, and our strength, if we are to persevere in the years to come".

"If we allow Sauron this victory, there will be no years of peace and growth ahead of us, my Prince", Haldir said. "Do not fool yourselves; our enemy is cunning, and he will not rest until all realms are fallen and conquered".

But Brand was still not appeased, and spoke with rising ire. "We marched here at the behest of the Elvenking, for the purpose of purging Dol Guldur of the evil that taints these lands. Now the Elvenking has joined the enemy; we failed to even stand against him in battle. And the Ringwraiths are too strong; they have repelled our attacks and forced us into retreat. What reason is there to remain here and fight for a lost cause?"

"You accuse him of joining the enemy as if this was his choice!" Legolas burst out, springing to his feet, and the other recoiled.

"My Prince, forgive my poor choice of words. You know I did not mean it that way. But still, the result remains. Lord Thranduil is under the influence of evil now".

"Our King is not lost", Tauriel whispered, rising from where she was seated beside Elladan, for the ellon would not leave her side since the battle. Her throat was hurting and burning where she had suffered Thranduil's iron grip, and the pain from her superficial Morgul wound seemed to have awakened, but inside she was seething with anger and disappointment at their allies, and for that she needed to speak and be heard. "There is always hope. Lord Thranduil wished to free all our realms from the heavy shadow of evil. How can we abandon him now, in his darkest hour? How can we abandon him now that he needs us the most?" Her final words were almost choked by her sob. Her heart was fluttering and her fists were trembling at her sides.

Her state of distress caused the others to throw her some compassionate glances. "My lady, you are aware of the deep respect I bear you", Thorin started in a placid manner. "And you know of the respect I have come to bear lord Thranduil. But sentiments have no place in politics and war. I myself insisted that we remain and rescue the Elvenking, when we first knew he was captured. It would feel dishonorable to abandon him, when it had been him who had striven so hard for this campaign to happen. But have we not tried all within our powers to find and retrieve him? And at what a terrible cost we did! Much as the fate of King Thranduil grieves us, we are left with little choice but end this campaign, before it leads to more death and destruction".

"Did you not hear me before, master dwarf?" Haldir interjected pointedly, and his tone earned him a sour look from Thorin. "If we flee now in defeat, how long will it be before the Shadow sweeps through all our lands? Or do you think Erebor alone will stand? One dragon was once all it took for your kingdom to fall. Do you think you will stand a chance against Sauron and his servants?"

His words cut sharp like a knife, and now Thorin turned red like a beet with fuming anger. "How dare you speak such insults, elf! Or have you forgotten it was because of the indifference and cruelty of the elves – that very Elvenking in question, to be exact, that cost us our mountain?" he boomed, banging his fist on the table, causing numerous glasses and plates to drop to the ground and shatter.

This served as a trigger for a fight to arise amongst the gathered leaders. All manner of order was lost, and each shouted their piece in anger. Nobody was willing to listen to anyone any longer, as they were all consumed by their wrath, and only sought to accuse and hurt each other.

Only Tauriel remained silent, seated in her corner, while bitter tears streamed freely down her cheeks. _If only I had a way to end this…_ She turned her face away from the arguing leaders, and remembered Thranduil as she had beheld him in battle. His eyes had been cold and devoid of emotion; his movements calculated and dictated by the malice of the Nazgul. He truly was a weapon in their hands now. Could it be true, then, that all hope was lost?

Suddenly a distant sound of hooves caught her ear, and it seemed to be approaching rapidly. Like an arrow she shot up and ran to the entrance of the tent, pushing the flap aside. There in the distance a hooded rider dismounted, and the guards stepped aside quickly, allowing him unhindered passage. She watched with her breath caught in her throat as he walked closer, and she gasped in astonishment, when at the threshold he lowered the hood of his burgundy cloak. "My lord Elrond!" she cried, and fell to her knees, while waves of hope and relief washed over her.

Silence fell in the tent then, and all eyes turned to the newcomer. "I am come in all haste from Imladris", he began under a furrowed brow.

"Ada!" Elladan called, but Elrond raised his hand.

"The hour is dire, and I am not come alone".

He turned then to the entrance and lifted the sheet. A grey-cloaked figure appeared, and he was wearing a pointed and slightly tattered hat and a silver shawl.

"Mithrandir", Haldir uttered, and bowed deeply in reverence.

"What is this commotion I heard here? Have you been fighting amongst yourselves?" Gandalf began, lightly tapping his staff on the ground. Everybody then felt like scolded children, and, ashamed of their behavior, averted their eyes from the wizard. "Do you not know that such conduct invites the enemy in our midst?" he warned, and pointed to the flames of the flickering candles.

Tauriel watched closely, and in the dim light she saw an ominous figure appearing, and in the blink of an eye it was lost, until it re-emerged, growing and diminishing in size as the flame flickered. And then in the absolute silence of the room dark words of evil spells were heard, and they were whispered from afar and carried in the air by means of dark magic, known only to few.

Then Gandalf tapped his staff firmly on the ground, and murmured words to break the black magic, joined by Elrond. Soon a hiss tore the air, and the candles went out all at once. With a sigh, he announced, "He is gone from our presence. Light the candles now!"

"Was that a trick?" Thorin dared ask the wizard.

"What need have I to play cheap tricks at such an hour, master dwarf?" Mithrandir responded. "There is much that is beyond your knowledge, and even mine. The Dark Lord is the nature of evil itself. His power is magnified where there is strife. You would be fools to invite his presence by fighting amongst yourselves so close to a stronghold of his, which houses some of his mightiest servants! You never know when or how he might be listening. So be more cautious next time you decide to pick an argument!" he huffed, placing a curled fist on his hip.

The Prince of Erebor grunted, but in the end he nodded, though grudgingly, and spoke no more.

"Mithrandir, your coming alongside lord Elrond fills my heart with joy and hope", Legolas said, wishing to end the discussion about the Shadow's powers, which had made everyone uneasy. "But how came you to know of what transpires here?" he wondered.

"The lady told me", he replied, exchanging a knowing look with Elrond. "I happened to be visiting Radagast, when at night she spoke to me, and said, 'Mithrandir, dear friends are in need of assistance. The evil has grown too strong in Dol Guldur. Even now lord Elrond rides south. Will you not aid them?' And so I set forth and met lord Elrond on his way here, and he told me the details I needed to know", Gandalf concluded.

Legolas nodded, and then proceeded to offer seats to the elf-lord and the wizard. "My heart sings in joy that you are both here", he repeated kindly.

"It seems to me we are needed here indeed", Elrond observed. "You had been arguing before we arrived. What was the dissent about?" he demanded, directing the question to his son.

"It concerned the future of this campaign, as well as the fate of the Elvenking", Elladan replied.

The lord of Imladris studied the faces of everyone present, peering deep into the eyes of each. In the end he nodded, and said, "I see. I will not force anyone to remain here against their will. You have done your part; you have weakened the forces of Dol Guldur greatly. But the tides have turned, now that the Shadow has claimed the Elvenking. The Nazgul will not surrender him, not even if you lay siege to their fortress for fifty years, for he is a valuable weapon in their hands for the war to come. Who knows what great evil they plan to visit upon the world through him… But reclaiming him is not a task for you, my valiant friends. Dark magic can only be fought with light magic, and as the bearer of such power I am come now. Perhaps it was a mistake of mine not to ride here from the beginning; I should have led the army of Imladris, but fear of bringing an item of power so close to the Enemy kept me from doing so, for I thought the time was not come for the rings to be revealed... But now I see there is no other way".

As he spoke, Tauriel's eyes fell at the ring on his finger. It was golden and set with a blue stone, deep and clear and radiant. Was it perhaps this the item of power Elrond had just mentioned? And another glance at Gandalf revealed to her that he, too, bore another ring, also made of gold but set with a ruby stone of vivid crimson. The Captain now suspected that these two were Ringbearers, alongside lady Galadriel. They bore the fabled Three. It would in part explain their immense power that kept their realms safe and flourishing, and free of evil. But for her long stay in Rivendell, she never came to think of Elrond's ring as anything more than adornment, for he never spoke of it or its powers, and it was rarely visible on his finger. Now, however, she could see that things were indeed much different. And she could understand Elrond's reluctance to bring the ring so close to the Enemy's lair, for fear of attracting Sauron's attention and bring his wrath down upon their kingdoms.

"I came here for the Elvenking. Come the dawn, I will ride with Mithrandir into Dol Guldur, to draw out and confront the Nazgul and their new ally. If the power of the rings needs be revealed, then so be it. Thranduil must be rescued from the clutches of evil, for he still has a role to play in the war to come. The lady Galadriel has seen much of the future, little of which I am entitled to reveal. Whoever wishes to accompany us, will be welcome to it. Those who do not, I wish you a safe return home".

Silence then fell in the chamber. All eyes were downcast, minds deep in thought. Then Haldir stood and said, "The Galadhrim will not shy away. I will aid you in your quest, for no elf should ever fear darkness".

Elrond nodded with the hint of a smile, and turned his gaze to his son. "My side is by you, father. I need say nothing more", Elladan said.

Then Thorin Stonehelm sprang from his seat. "Ah, damned elves! Let it never be known that a dwarf was scared to go where an elf did not! By Mahal, I will ride with you. You have my word as the Prince of Erebor", he declared proudly.

Gandalf shook his head, and a gentle look was on his face. "The bravery of dwarves has never been put in question, my lord Thorin".

"And what about the bravery of men? My will is to stay here and fight with you, but I alone will do so. I have no more soldiers to spare. My army shall march northwards to Dale", Brand stated.

"So be it, then", Elrond said. "We who are present here tonight shall ride to Dol Guldur by daybreak. Let us disassemble now, and each should speak to their Commanders. Give orders as you see fit". Then he turned to Legolas. "Legolas, my Prince, see to the preparations for our departure", he asked of him.

"Yes, my lord Elrond. You have my deepest thanks".

"You should reserve your thanks for after we have rescued your father", the lord of Imladris responded grimly, and the Prince nodded and sighed.

Gandalf then stood and approached Legolas, and, leaning on his staff, looked at him with a small smile and kindness in his blue eyes. "Now, do you have a bed to spare for an old man?"

* * *

A while later Elrond found himself in the healers' tent, for Legolas and Tauriel had asked him as a favor to visit Tinuven, the injured Commander, and see if he could help him with the Morgul wound he had received during the first battle. And, of course, the noble elf-lord did not refuse to aid him.

Tinuven lay in his cot, half-asleep, as he usually was these days. His condition had not declined, but it had not improved either, and his mother, Alfirimbes, worried that he might never recover, or worse.

Elhedril was by his side, seated on a stool beside his bed. She immediately stood as Alfirimbes entered the room, followed by the three other elves. "My lady", she hastily said, and then her eyes traveled to the rest.

"My dear Elhedril, lord Elrond is here", the healer said and gestured towards the elf-lord. "He is here for Tinuven".

The guard bowed deeply before him. "Thank you, my lord", she meekly whispered.

"Stand, child", he urged her kindly. "Let me see how the Commander fares".

At that Elhedril stepped aside and joined Tauriel and Legolas to the other side of the chamber. The Captain took her hand in hers and offered her a small smile. "He will be alright", she told her.

The other elleth nodded with hope in her eyes, but then her countenance grew grim. "I am sorry for lord Thranduil", she muttered solemnly.

Tears welled up in Tauriel's eyes, but she fought them back. "There is always hope", she breathed, and beside her Legolas sighed and shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Elrond sat on the edge of Tinuven's cot, and Alfirimbes stood behind him, holding a cup of fresh athelas salve in her hands. He carefully peeled away the dressing from the wound, and examined it closely. Then he placed his ringed finger just above it, and began a lilting chant, the healing words flowing like soothing water from his lips. Vilya shimmered like a star, and a soft glow took form beneath his palm, bathing Tinuven's injured shoulder with healing light. Elhedril found herself holding her breath at the marvelous sight before her, and Tauriel squeezed her hand reassuringly. Then Alfirimbes passed Elrond a compress dipped in the salve, and she joined in the chanting as the lord cleaned the wound.

When the process was ended, he turned to the others, and addressed Alfirimbes. "I have done what I could for your son, and now the effects of evil have subsided. The wound is deep, and it has festered for days, but he is an elf with a strong spirit. I sensed his _fea_ fighting the evil mightily. We must trust to hope that he, in time, will recover".

"I cannot thank you enough, my lord Elrond", the chief healer said and bowed her head before him.

"I trust him now in your care. Gone I must be now, for there are dire tasks awaiting me on the morrow", Elrond said, and drew his cloak around his shoulders. Then Legolas accompanied him out.

The ellith remained in the chamber, and Elhedril moved to her beloved. She touched his brow, and noticed that the fever was broken. His breath was now even and calm, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. "He fares better", she announced happily, and kissed his hand, wetting it with her tears of joy. "Oh, Tauriel, thank you so much for bringing lord Elrond here!" she cried.

"How could I not. You are my friend, and so is Tinuven", she replied.

The guard nodded, and after a while she asked, "Why is lord Elrond come to Thangulhad?"

"He came at Elladan's request, to aid us with rescuing our King. Tomorrow we shall ride to Dol Guldur", the Captain replied, and felt her spine and limbs tensing with anxiety. "Mithrandir is also here. With such powerful allies now, our chances of success are improved", she added.

Elhedril stood from the bed. "Tauriel, let me march beside you".

"My friend, you should not risk your life. Tinuven needs you".

"But it is the least I can do for you now", she protested.

"Listen to Captain Tauriel, child. What difference can another bow make where the darkest powers of evil are concerned?" Alfirimbes chimed in. "But here your love can make all the difference. You can guide Tinuven back to life. And what if ill fate befalls you? What if Tinuven awakes and you are gone?"

Elhedril glanced back to her lover. Her heart broke at the thought of his awakening to her death. Her face fell, and she sighed. "Very well. I will abide by your will".

Tauriel nodded. "It gladdens my heart that you have chosen wisely. But the hour grows late, and I must be going. The dawn is only a few hours from now, and I must make ready".

At that she bid goodnight the other ellith, and left.

* * *

When the first rays of sun fell on the ground, the group of riders had already assembled. There sat lord Elrond astride his silver steed, and he looked noble and majestic in his burgundy cloak and golden circlet. Beside him was his son, dressed in hues of blue, and his long, dark hair was neatly braided. Legolas cared not for decorations of state, and he rode on his sorrel steed dressed in simple leather garb. Beside him was Tauriel, and along them rode Haldir, Brand and Thorin. Last of all came Gandalf on a grey horse, with Glamdring sheathed at his side and his wooden staff in his hand.

"Come now, dear friends. Let us depart", said Elrond, and spurred his steed forth.

Behind them they left the ruins of Thangulhad, and took the short road to Dol Guldur. It was before long when the black iron gates appeared, and they passed through unhindered. All around them were the marks of the battles fought; scattered helms, shields and weapons, blood mingled with mud on the ground, broken spears and banners… and corpses; countless pyres of corpses that had now turned to ash and bone. A horrid, nauseating smell was in the air, the smell of blood and burned flesh, rancid and permeating the senses, carving itself in memory, doomed to be forever remembered.

Slowly the riders rode through this appalling scenery, until at last they reached the base of the great tower. "This is the Nazgul's seat", Legolas told the others. "They kept my father in the dungeons below the tower", he said, feeling his heart overflowing with hatred and abhorrence for the cursed wraiths and their minions.

"Show yourselves, servants of Sauron!" called Gandalf to the wind.

A moment passed in utter silence. The riders looked around with caution and apprehension, their weapons at the ready, alert for any sign of evil presence. And then a wind took up, ruffling the banners of the Nazgul that hung from the towers and the high bridges, beating them against the stone.

"Who dares command us in our domain?" an abysmal, eerie voice was heard, and at once three black figures emerged from the tower, looming over the riders from above.

"We have come for the Elvenking, and we shall not leave without him!" shouted Elrond. "Surrender him now!"

A malicious laughter tore the air. "Elrond half-elven…" it hissed. "Long has it been since we last met".

The elf-lord steeled his resolve. "You were defeated once, you shall be defeated again".

"We shall see about that. And who is the one accompanying you? Have you brought old men to challenge us?" it sneered, pointing its blade towards the wizard.

He looked up. "I am Gandalf the Grey. Your dark powers will not avail you, spirits of Angmar!" At that he raised his staff, producing a bright light from the tip of it.

The Nazgul screeched in detestation and revulsion and leapt to the ground before them. "You fools! You want the elf-king? Very well. Come forth!" their leader shrieked, and soon the gates of the tower opened and Thranduil appeared through them. The company looked at him, and the sight before them took the hearts of them. For there was Thranduil, bearing broken chains around his wrists and ankles, standing with his head bowed and his swords in his hands, their tips resting lightly on the ground. He looked grim and terrible, his face a mask of cruelty. He was thin and pale, and his eyes invisible under the shadows. Grey hair cascaded on his shoulders, messy and tangled, and bereft of its silver gleam. He was clad in the rags that had once been his robes, and his elven circlet was gone and replaced with a black iron band, spiked and jeweled with a single red gem. His breath was heavy and slow, and he stood motionless like a statue, awaiting the Nazgul's command.

Elrond's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed when he beheld Thranduil, for he had not imagined him to be in such a horrible state. But he did not let his thoughts show, and he called to him with these words:

"Thranduil, my friend and lord King of the Woodland Realm! Udulen gi nathad _(tr. I am here to save you)_ _._ You need not obey the Nazgul any longer. Your son and people await your return. Leave these grounds of evil and follow us home!"

The Elvenking slowly lifted his face, but he displayed no sign of recognition or change in his demeanor whatsoever. On the contrary, he raised his swords and brought them together above his head in one swift motion, causing blasts of dark energy to strike the riders. The steeds neighed in terror and almost threw down their riders. They dismounted swiftly, for the beasts would not be pacified.

"Kill them all!" yelled the Nazgul.

Thranduil lunged forth like a maelstrom, and the three Ringwraiths entered the fray, drawing their Morgul blades. Elrond engaged Thranduil in combat, while Mithrandir and the others faced the Nazgul. One by one the lord of Imladris deflected his opponent's blows, and they were equally matched in skill and might. Beside them Gandalf battled the wraiths with his sword and the white light of his staff, and it drove them away, for they cowered before the light. But again they attacked, and now called their servants to their aid. Soon bands of orcs swarmed the battlefield, and they gave the warriors great challenge, as they were now vastly outnumbered.

"Fear not the forces of evil!" cried Gandalf and raised his sword-arm, Narya glowing upon his finger. Then courage was born anew in his companions' hearts, and they fought with renewed strength. Legolas felled orc after orc with his bow, and when they came too close, he drew his daggers. Tauriel wished not to leave Thranduil from her sight, and she tried to make her way towards him. But the orcs were many and they were closing in from all sides. Now the small fellowship was surrounded and striving to hold their own against their assailants.

Elrond, seeing that the situation had grown dire, decided it was time to call upon the powers of Vilya. "Enough!" he cried, and like a bright flame shone the ring. Thranduil fell back, and the orcs cowered and scattered.

"What tricks play you, elf?" hissed the leader of the Three venomously.

The wraith brought its Morgul blade against Elrond, but he countered the blow with his own sword. The elven ring was then revealed upon his finger, and the Nazgul screeched in anger as it perceived it.

"Behold the power of Vilya revealed!" declared Elrond.

"The trinket will not save you. For I draw my power from the One!"

Forcefully it struck against Elrond again, and he stepped backwards a bit. _The Nazgul's power has indeed grown much,_ he thought. For it was not simply a clash of swords, but a clash of wills as well. It was the Light pitted against the Darkness. Good versus Evil.

"No more lives will you claim, servant of Sauron!" yelled Gandalf.

A blast of energy shook the ground and made the walls around crack and crumble, as the Ringbearers attacked the wraiths in unison. "Go back to your Master!" the wizard commanded them.

The Nazgul hissed and drew back in fear and rage. "It is too late for you! Too late for the elf-king, for he is already ours!"

And then Thranduil emerged again, but his eye this time fell not on Elrond or Gandalf, but on Tauriel, who was now standing right beside saw him, as he made for her, slow and menacing in his step, like a predator toying with its prey.

Tauriel put her bow aside and drew her sword. Tears filled her eyes as the creature that once was her lover approached her, but she remained still and waiting. _Thranduil, oh my love, my poor, tormented love, what has befallen you? What have they done unto you?_

She stood before him, blocking his advance. "You will go no further. You will harm no one".

Legolas saw her then, and he cried, "Tauriel, no!"

She spared him a glance, and whispered, "I must do this, Legolas".

Elladan and Haldir tried to run to her, but the Nazgul attacked them and prevented them from doing so. She was alone, and this was her hour.

Thranduil then raised his blades and brought them down hard on her. She deflected the blow with her own sword, albeit with difficulty. He struck again, pressing against her. She crumbled under his strength and fell to her knees, and his face then was inches from hers. He gritted his teeth in hatred, and his eyes burned with icy fire. She peered into their depths, trying to remember his starlit glances. She remembered how he had once saved her from the orcs, when she was a mere elfling, and she had afterwards sought refuge in his arms. His eyes were so warm and kind then. She remembered how broken he had been on Ravenhill, when he found her mourning. His eyes were full of compassion then. And she remembered how liquid their depths had looked when he confessed the pain of his heart to her, and for the first time she had truly understood him and felt for him. And when at last he loved her, those bright eyes of his were azure pools of passion and sincerity.

And then suddenly everything became clear to her, and an inner light brightened her emerald eyes. She knew now what had to be done. "I forgive you, my love", she whispered to him tenderly, and let go of her blade.

"Tauriel! No!" Legolas screamed, and, freeing himself from the Nazgul's assault, he made to rush to her.

But it was too late. At once Thranduil's sword pierced her chest, and crimson blood sprang from the wound. As she collapsed, she brought one weak hand to touch his cheek. "I forgive you", she repeated with a smile. "And I commend the light of my spirit to you, so that you will be healed and whole again". A flicker then and a tremble appeared in Thranduil's eyes, and he held her body as she shivered with the chill of her imminent demise. "Novaer, Thranduil. Farewell", she told him with her dying breath, and then went still in his arms.

"No!" cried Legolas, as he fell to his knees, next to Tauriel's body. "You killed her!" he accused his father, and drew his dagger.

Thranduil blinked a few times, and he gasped, as his vison gradually cleared. A bright aura encircled him, as Tauriel's _fea_ departed from her body, and he felt surrounded by warmth and love. Legolas sprang to his feet, stunned by the intensity of the unexpected phenomenon, and took a few steps back, watching now his father in awe. The darkness inside Thranduil was chased away, and a light of renewal and rebirth engulfed him. Gone were the treacherous whisperings of the Dark Lord, and his heart filled again with the songs of Elbereth.

"No! This cannot be!" shrieked the leader of the Nazgul, as it perceived that they had lost hold of their puppet, and lunged against him.

But Thranduil repelled the wraith with his sword, which was now bathed in the same cleansing fire. "Leithio nin!" he cried in agony. "I must be free of your tethers!"

Gandalf then ran to him, and held his staff forth against the Nazgul. A white light emanated from it and blinded everyone with its brilliance. "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. Go back to the shadows from whence you came!" he commanded it.

The wraith backed away in terror and fled inside the tower. The remaining two tried to renew the attack, but their fate was similar, for Elrond and Gandalf chased them away, aided by the power of their rings. With the Nazgul gone, the rest of the fellowship came and gathered around Tauriel's still form.

"Ada! Help her!" cried Elladan.

Elrond then knelt beside her, and took her hand in his. It was deathly cold. He shook his head and sighed. "I am sorry, ion nin. Tauriel is beyond healing now. She has left this Middle Earth, and her spirit is traveling to the Halls of Mandos. May she find peace there", he said solemnly.

"Amarth faeg!" Legolas cried, and bent over her body, weeping in grief. The other two young ellyn shared the sentiment, and shed tears for the Captain's untimely death. Even Brand and Thorin stood moved and speechless at the sorrowful scene before them.

And Thranduil stood there, drowned in the solitude of his deed, with his mind slowly clearing. The shadow was lifted from his thoughts, and the sway of evil was gone for good. He felt strong and pure again, hale like he had not felt in a very long time. With a swift motion he gripped and threw down the iron crown he wore, and it shattered and disintegrated into ashes at once, its scarlet jewel turning black as a coal. His eyes and hair found again their clarity and shine, and the wounds on his back pained him less, as the healing effects of Tauriel's powerful spirit became apparent. And as his gaze became clear and all veils of deception were lifted, he beheld the scene in front of him. There stood Gandalf with his staff, and Haldir, Elladan, Brand and Thorin, all staring at him in awe and disbelief, and on the ground Elrond was kneeling and his son was weeping over a dead body… Tauriel's dead body. He saw the deep gash on her chest, and he glanced at the reddened tip of his blade. "No…" he whispered, and felt his heart being torn from his chest. "Valar no! What have I done!" he cried in despair, and threw down his swords.

His outcry attracted Elrond's attention. "Thranduil!" he exclaimed.

The Elvenking slowly walked to the gathered fellowship, and dropped to his knees beside Tauriel's body. "What have I done…" he uttered again, still unable to comprehend his horrible deed.

Then Legolas lifted his face. "Father… I see now that you are free of the influence of evil. Tauriel's death saved you. With her final breath she wished her spirit to heal you", he said, with the tears still fresh on his cheeks.

"Ion nin…"

"She sacrificed herself for you. She died, so that you may live", he explained in a strained and broken voice, for though he was glad his father had been restored, Tauriel's passing pained him profoundly.

Thranduil's gaze fell from his son's eyes to Tauriel's face. How pale and peaceful she looked, almost as if she were sleeping. With a trembling hand he touched her cold cheek and caressed it, and carefully, reverentially, he gathered her body in his arms. "Leave me", he whispered. And when nobody moved, he cried, "Leave me, I said! Gwao hi!"

Gandalf placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Come, lad", he said gently. Then he turned, and the rest followed him away from the battlefield.

Thranduil was left alone on the barren ground of Dol Guldur, to mourn his lost love beneath the great tower. No words could ever describe his heart-rending cries or the grief of his soul, for he found himself in the same position for the second time in his life, with the lady he loved to have laid down her life for him. First it was Lothrin at Gundabad, and now Tauriel at Dol Guldur. Both campaigns were an initiative of his, and both were ill-fated. The dragons had taken Lothrin, and now Tauriel was dead by his own hand. How would he ever be able to go on living after that?

And then he remembered Elrond's bleak visions of his future. He had spoken of an altar, towards which they were walking, but the road was thorny, and their feet bled as they went, and ever their destination seemed distant… And then there had been the images of Galadriel's mirror, when Tauriel peered into it. They had shown death and destruction, and even his own captivity and torment. How could he have been so reckless? Why had he not paid those forewarnings the attention they deserved? He should never have marched to Dol Guldur. He should have stayed in his Halls, he should have kept Tauriel there, safe and sound… But instead he let her fight by his side, and now she was dead by his hand… All his life he had wished to be rid of the taint of Morgoth, and he had been devastated when Galadriel told him that she knew of no such way… But he would never have wished for such a cure. Had he known that the only way for him to be healed would be the death of his beloved, then he might very well have lived forever with the stain. But not this fate, not this unjust and cruel fate…

And so he wept and wept for three days and three nights, and nothing came to disturb his mourning. The Nazgul never again appeared, and no orc or other foul creature dared show its face. Alone he crouched there, holding her dearly in his arms, and kissed her brow and her lovely lips, knowing that she would never again be able to hold him or kiss him back. "Echuio, melleth nin, echuio…" he whispered to her over and over again, but she would not wake up. Tauriel was gone. All that was left of her was memory. But how could he ever forgive himself for taking her life?

" _No",_ a voice then whispered in the wind _. "My death was not of your making. It was my choice, so that you may live free of the stain of evil. The light of my fea cured yours. There is no taint of Morgoth upon you anymore. It is gone forever. Weep no more, for you have loved me well, and I have loved you with all my heart"._

And then the voice was gone as suddenly as it had come. Thranduil was not sure whether he had truly heard it, or it was a trick of his mind. But he was feeling peaceful now. He looked at her face, and it seemed to him that she was smiling. And then he stood, holding her body in his arms, and walked away from the scenery of death.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

It was the year 120 of the Fourth Age of the Sun, and the day dawned bright and warm, as befitted a day of early autumn, when the summer sweetness still lingers in the air, but the heat of the sun has subsided. The waters of the Anduin flowed gently beneath the white elven ship, effortlessly pushing it towards its destination. On the stem stood Legolas, and beside him was Gimli.

"Oh, look at the yellowing trees, my friend! Are they not a marvel to behold during the changing of seasons?" the elf exclaimed.

"Well yes, they are pretty", replied the dwarf rather impassively, as he was clearly not overly impressed by the leaves and grass on the riverbank. "But come now, you must finish your story!" he urged him.

Legolas laughed softly. "Have my narrations not tired you, my good friend?"

"Nay, your narrations have kept me pleasant company during our long journey. And you better speak on, before I focus again on the running waters and begin feeling nauseous!" he warned the other in a spirit of jest.

"Very well", Legolas acceded and took a deep breath. "Though the ending of her story is not a happy one. Do you still wish to hear it?"

"Need I repeat myself?" Gimli grunted.

The elf nodded. "After my father was claimed by the Shadow, lord Elrond and Mithrandir came to our aid. Together we rode to Dol Guldur, and in the end we managed to defeat the Nazgul, and they fled from our eyes, taking refuge in their fortress. But the cost had been great, for in his darkest hour and while he was under the sway of evil, my father struck a lethal blow to Tauriel. And thus she fell".

"Lord Thranduil killed Tauriel?" Gimli asked incredulously.

"Yes… In a manner he did. Although I believe it was Tauriel's decision to give up fighting, seeing that she could never defeat him as he was, his strength immensely multiplied through the influence of darkness. She chose to sacrifice her life and gifted the light of her spirit to heal his", Legolas explained.

"So, she did truly love him after all", the dwarf murmured.

"She did. And he loved her. I cannot even begin to describe to you, my friend, how terrible his grief was afterwards, especially the first time after her demise".

"I suppose a grand funeral was held in her honor".

The ellon shook his golden head. "No, not really. My father wished for no grandeur, for he said that Tauriel was a soldier, and she would never have wished for such honors. The funeral was simple and elegant, but my father erected a statue in her honor, so that he may always be able to look upon her fair face. Do you remember it, Gimli? We saw it when once we visited my father in Eryn Lasgalen".

The dwarf stood thoughtful for a while, but then he cried, "Yes! Now I remember. There were two statues just inside the elven gate, two statues of fair elf-maidens".

Legolas smiled at the memory. "The one on the left is much older, and is dedicated to my mother. Lothrin was her name, my father's beloved snow-crowned lady. She was named thus, because her silver-white hair truly caught the sparkle and radiance of fresh snow. My father had it erected after her death in Gundabad, long ago, in a battle that had scarred him for life. You see, Gimli, dragonfire is cursed, for the Serpents of the North were Morgoth's spawn, and once my father was touched by that fire, his _fea_ was tainted by his malice".

"Oh, that is why you said Tauriel's light healed him. I bet she had a most bright spirit, to erase the stain of Morgoth", Gimli concluded.

"She possessed the fiercest spirit I have ever beheld in a living being, my friend. So, after her death, my father wished to have another statue made, and now it stands opposite my mother's. Do you remember them well, Gimli?" he asked, testing his friend's memory.

"Yes, well, let me see… I think the one depicts a modest maiden, mellow and sweet, while the other shows a warrior, with her bow on her back and a dagger in hand".

"Your memory has not betrayed you. These ellith were so different, and yet my father loved them both with all his heart. My mother was a warrior too, but she became one out of necessity, after witnessing the destruction of Doriath and the slaying of her kin. She was wise, and not one to speak impulsively. Not much memory I have of her, and most tales come from my father's recounting, but all I cherish greatly", he said in a soft tone, and his bright eyes seemed lost and unfocused for a while. "Tauriel, on the other hand, was born to be a warrior. Restless and impulsive, one might even call her a troublemaker. But I believe that is why my father loved her in the end. And how could he not? She embodied the finest aspects of her people, the Silvan elves, that race my father came to love so well. She brought the flame of life back in his desolate one; she pulled him out of his long slumber, and she urged him to leave the confinement of his Halls and re-engage with the world. It was thanks to her that my father became again the caring King that he once was. It was thanks to her that the danger in Dol Guldur was directly addressed and dealt with, and that my father re-organized the defenses of our kingdom, so that we were able to repel and defeat the attacks of the Dark Lord during the latter years of the War of the Ring. And, I believe it was only after Sauron's defeat that my father finally found some measure of peace, having protected his people, and at last Dol Guldur was cleansed from the filth that festered in it for countless years. Then the old elven ruins were free of evil and their memory was restored. Often has my father revisited the place of Tauriel's death, but always he journeyed there alone, and never spoke about his time there. But I suspect he remained there, wandering amongst the fallen towers, reminiscing and grieving her passing, until his heart was spent and there were no more tears to shed. Oh, Gimli, none has ever suspected the capacity for love of my father's heart, for he always hid it so well behind his armor of ice and steel", Legolas sighed, not without some measure of sorrow and bitterness. "If only he had not been so guarded in the earlier years; if only I had known him for the caring father he would have been, had he not been so afraid to allow his heart to embrace love again…"

"My heart goes out for you, but please forgive me when I say it is a bit difficult for me to imagine lord Thranduil as a gentle and caring King… Forgive my words, Legolas, but I had to speak my mind", Gimli said.

"I understand why you say that. My father must have left a most awful impression on your father and the company of Thorin Oakenshield's dwarves, when he imprisoned them in his Halls. But, trust me, everything changed soon afterwards", Legolas replied.

Gimli nodded. "And how did he go on living after causing the death of his beloved? It must have been difficult, even for one as strong and icy as Thranduil".

Legolas gave him a side-glance. "It was difficult indeed. For days on end he locked himself in his chambers, refusing to show himself to the world, lost in his grief and remorse. But eventually that time passed, and when he emerged he was calm and collected. It was then that he asked for the statue to be carved, and he announced that Tauriel's name was to be mentioned with great reverence, always. He then went back to his royal duties, and bore his pain and shame – for I think that feeling of shame and regret never left him – with dignity and perseverance. For he never reverted back to his old ways of solitude and seclusion, Gimli. Now that his spirit was whole and pure again, he wished to do what he could for his realm and his people. He did not allow Tauriel's death to destroy him, although he never truly got over it, as he had never gotten over my mother's death, but I believe that in the end he learned to live with it. Not a day passed in all the years that followed that he did not visit her grave to speak to her and leave some flowers upon the marble plaque".

"But where was she buried? For I do not recall seeing a tomb beneath the statue", Gimli wondered.

"No. My father had her buried in the royal gardens, which was his favorite place. And it was also the place where they first reconnected, after she returned from her banishment. My father once told me it was there that he first knew he loved her. And so he chose to have her forever in the place where their love was born. And after the Dark Lord fell and the shadow was lifted from the Greenwood, the royal gardens flourished with new bloom and leaf, and her resting place was not a place of mourning and gloom, but one of love and life, just like she has ever been".

At that a single tear ran on Legolas' cheek, for he had loved his departed friend fondly, and he missed her greatly. The dwarf looked at him solemnly, and did not speak, not wishing to disturb him reminiscence now.

"You know, Gimli, she was my closest friend. We fought and hunted together, and I even came to develop some kind of romantic feelings for her during some point in my life. But it was only an infatuation, a feeling of keenness and ardor that grows between comrades when they spend most of their time together, and share much of their life stories. I knew what love truly meant when I met Lossendis".

"Ah, that elf-maiden of yours. You never told me what happened with her, Legolas. Were you not to marry?"

"We were indeed. But she has since long departed for Valinor. At first we had wished to announce our engagement after the campaign against Dol Guldur would be over, but the tragic events made us postpone it, without fixing a new date for it. Neither of us was in the mood for weddings, when the death of a dear friend was still too near. For Lossendis had come to know Tauriel as a friend, too, during her long stay in Imladris. And then came the events of the One Ring. I saw her when I came to the Council of Elrond, at the behest of my father, to report Gollum's escape. Then I joined Frodo and the fellowship, and Lossendis and I said our farewells, promising to see each other again when the war would be over. And so we did, but the circumstances were once again dire. Both her brothers had perished in the war, and her heart was filled with mourning and sorrow. No words of love, nor promises of a blissful life could sway her from her decision. She wished to depart for the Undying Lands, where she would be free of the pain and memory. And so she did, more than a hundred years ago. We promised to see each other again in Valinor".

"Do you think you will see her, Legolas?"

"I am certain I will. For I have not forgotten the gleam in her eyes or the lilting sound of her laughter. To be reunited with her, though we were not married in this life, is my heart's fondest desire", the ellon replied, and his clear eyes shone with love and hope.

"Do you think you will see Tauriel there as well?"

"I do hope so. Her spirit is housed and protected in the Halls of Mandos, as is my mother's. And while my mother's spirit was almost completely destroyed and consumed by the dragonfire, and thus rendered unable to inhabit a living body ever again, Tauriel's spirit has only helped heal another. Perhaps some of its energy is depleted, but it is not damaged. Frail though it must be, I do not see why I should not be able to meet with her in the bliss and safety of Valinor", he concluded.

"I wish it will come to pass, my friend. But why would your father not sail with us? Does he not wish to be reunited with Tauriel as well?"

Legolas sighed. "My father has always been a very complex, and very flawed being, shaped by the misfortunes that befell him since his youth. He does not deem himself worthy of stepping onto the blessed and unstained lands of Aman, where once the light of the two trees shone. He has chosen to remain in his realm, the one he saw so green and beautiful when he first came from Doriath, the one he saw falling under the shadow during the dark and oppressive years of Sauron's rise, and the one he again saw restored as Eryn Galen after the Dark Lord was defeated. The time of the elves has ended, however. Even now our realms and creations fade; the three elven rings have lost their power, now mere relics on the fingers of their bearers, who have since long departed for Valinor. And the lands they once preserved have started to deteriorate, doomed to fade in time. Oh, fabled Lorien, how will your golden trees wither and die!" Legolas lamented. "And fade will all the elves that remain on this Middle Earth as well, Gimli; for we are creatures of magic, and cannot exist without it, now that magic has left this world. We have played our part, and our time here is ended. This is the time of men, the second-born of Eru Iluvatar. We taught them and guided them as best we could, and we have gifted them with vast knowledge and many tales to remember and recount. But we cannot remain here. Those who may choose to stay will soon fade; their physical forms will be consumed by their powerful _fear_ , until they become nothing but lost spirits carried in the wind, inhabiting old forests and coves, doomed to forever watch the world, but unable to interact with it. This is not a fate I would wish for myself, my friend. I would rather go to the Undying Lands, where I will meet again beloved faces and fallen friends, and where my heart will at last be at peace".

"I understand that. I wish us dwarves had the same choice…"

"You alone amongst your race is privileged, Gimli. You shall soon see the light of Valinor, and then all your sorrows will be forgotten".

Then another elf rose from the stern of the ship and walked up to Legolas. "My Prince, there I see Mithlond. Our journey on this Middle Earth is nearing its end".

"It is, Tinuven. Soon you will see your beloved Elhedril again", answered Legolas.

"What have we here, another lovelorn elf?" Gimli teased, and that earned him a glare from Tinuven's green eyes.

"My wife died in the War of the Ring, during the battle of Helm's Deep. She had marched alongside Haldir, her cousin… and they both lost their precious lives there", Tinuven said in sorrow. "I had since long heard the call of the white gulls, and wished to travel to Aman, for the pain from my Morgul wound had never truly left me. But I remained and fought the rest of the war in her name. So frenzied and fearless was I after her passing, that my disregard for death earned me a great many honors and military decorations. But I cared little for these. All my heart yearned for was to see my beloved again. But I postponed my departure for as long as I could bear to, for the sake of my mother. I was all she had, and she did not seem fond of leaving Eryn Lasgalen. She always used to tell me that she felt very akin to the land, and she had not heard the call of the sea. She did not feel the longing that I felt. Perhaps, one day, she told me that she, too, might sail, but I doubt she will. Like our King, some elves are darker and grimmer by nature, and their wishes and decisions are a riddle to the rest of us".

"Very few remain in our kingdom now, my good Tinuven. Meduithel and Iaurvir sailed about ten years ago, weary from their long lives and the sorrows of the world. Our kingdom is almost deserted, and some say Lorien and Imladris do not fare any better", Legolas commented.

The Commander shook his head. "If only our fates were different. Alas, I would have wished to see feisty Tauriel as the new Elvenqueen. I admit I disliked her at first, but she later won me over with her indomitable spirit and her courage; a true warrior she was".

"A warrior she was indeed, but she was ever so reluctant to become a Queen, but for my father's encouragement. I do not believe she would ever feel comfortable, had she taken up the mantle. She was not one to stand to ceremony or endure long and tedious council meetings. I can almost envision her fighting with my father over trivial matters concerning her unseemly queenly conduct", Legolas said and smiled.

"She would be a warrior Queen. She would lead the armies to battle. She would be magnificent", Tinuven insisted.

"I like that version of her better", Gimli put in.

"What a glorious royal couple my father and Tauriel would have made", Legolas mused. "But it was not to be". Then he peered into the horizon, as the ship left behind the harbor of the Grey Havens. "Look, my friends. There begins the Straight Road!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm. All the elves aboard marveled and gasped in awe, for the Straight Road was now visible to them. But Gimli strove to see and still could see nothing.

"What is this road you speak of? Stand aside, let me see! Let me see!" he grunted impatiently.

Legolas laughed. "You will see it soon enough, as we approach, my friend. All these years and you still have not admitted that the elves have better senses than the dwarves?" he teased him kindly.

Gimli huffed, pretending to be vexed, but burst out in hearty laughter afterwards. Tinuven stood beside them, smiling. Then in the distance a glowing white gate appeared, and its foundations were lost in the clouds. The ship slid smoothly off the earth's curvature and went into the Straight Road, leaving behind the mortal world.

"This is it", whispered Legolas in awe, and spared one last glance behind, as his heart now filled with excitement and longing. "Farewell, Middle Earth. Farewell Lorien and Imladris and Eryn Galen. I will cherish your memory and forever hold you in my heart fondly. Farewell, dear father. May the rest of your days be filled with peace, at last".

And then the silver boat passed through the gleaming gates, and could not be seen from the shore any more.

* * *

Years went by. The years turned into decades, the decades into eons, and the eons into millennia. Kings rose and fell, realms grew and faded, and the face of Arda was changed. But the great mountains stood to their height, and the great forests became greener still. In one such great forest, which the elves of bygone ages used to call Eryn Lasgalen, men now dwelled. And they had forgotten that once this place was filled with magic, and that once the mighty Elvenking had his Halls beneath the ground. But still, on clear winter nights, when all was quiet and only the white snow fell, if one stood attentive, they said he could see a silver light dancing with a crimson one amidst the woods, and whispering laughter was carried in the wind. What words they said no one could tell, for it was in a language long lost to men. Most of the men were afraid of the tale of these two ghosts, but the wisest among them knew that they were a couple of old, waiting to be reborn one final time for the Battle of Battles. And when they hearkened and heard their pledges of eternal love, they smiled.

The End

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 ** _A/N:_** _A great many thanks to everyone who has read this story, as well as its predecessor "Broken Glass". Special thanks to all those who took the time to review it. Your support has propelled me forth through the magnificent journey that was the writing of these two stories for me. I hope you have enjoyed reading them as much as I have enjoyed writing them. And even if the ending is bittersweet, and some of you might have wished for a truly "happy end", let us always remember, in Professor Tolkien's words, that "Darkness must pass, a new day will come, and when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer"._


	26. Chapter 26

**_A/N:_** _I had to post this alternate ending, for ever since I posted Chapter 25 I have been the recipient of many complaints, about how the ending was so bitter and sad. Well, I hate to disappoint my fans, so here is a much sweeter ending for all of you who believe in true love and like Thranduil and Tauriel as a paring! Again, thanks a lot for reading and reviewing and supporting me all along. See you in the next stories!_

* * *

Chapter 25 – Alternate ending

For three whole days and three long nights he mourned her. His weeping would not cease, and his heart would not be put to rest. But Tauriel's voice was heard in the wind, and she spoke to him with soothing words, wishing to take away his pain.

But how could she? How was this pain that tore his whole being apart ever to be soothed? He cared not that his spirit was mended now; he cared not that the stain of Morgoth, inflicted upon him so long ago, was now removed. He would trade it all for her life. He would have gladly died in her place. If only his accursed blade had not found its mark! If only he had turned it against himself, and not her!

"Valar!" he cried to the wind, holding her limp and lifeless body in his arms. "How can you be so cruel? Have I not paid enough in this life? Why should you allow this to happen? I knew you for just and fair, but I was wrong. No one before has endured what I have, and I have endured it all for love. Darkness robbed me of my Lothrin, but I lived on for my son, broken and tainted as I was. And when a second chance was given to me, and Tauriel brought light into my life again, darkness struck once more, and had me drive my sword into her heart. Oh, the injustice of the world! Hear me, Valar, I beseech you! I offer my life for hers. I have lived long, too long indeed upon this Middle Earth. But she was young, an elleth full of life and hope and dreams. Her only mistake was that she loved me. She dared to love one, who was cursed by evil, and she dared stand against the darkness, unflinching and unafraid. For she always trusted to hope, and to love. All her life she had lived for love, and her death has been for love as well. But I did not deserve that sacrifice. I was unworthy of the magnitude of her love. Please, Valar, bestow your light upon me, if only for once in my long and accursed life, and hear me. I lay down my own life for hers, so that she may live again".

He glanced around. The place was deserted; in the distance loomed the broken, grey towers of Dol Guldur, and all around him the ground was barren and sown with thorns and bare rocks. No sign of life was anywhere. A light wind blew every now and then, swirling up the dead leaves and the dust.

A deep bitterness was born in his heart then, and he fell to his knees. Her head he held tenderly, her skin pale now and lifeless. Hot tears blurred his vision. "How can one so fair be gifted to death?" he lamented, and his fingers traced her temple. "Valar, you have forsaken me!" he cried to the skies, and his bitterness turned to resentment.

But then the darkness of the sky was broken, and a bright light, like that of a distant star, appeared. Thranduil held Tauriel's body tightly against his, as he beheld the extraordinary phenomenon. The light grew brighter still, and soon it eclipsed all else around it. There was no Dol Guldur, no towers, no bridges, no thorns, nothing. Even the gloomy trees of his kingdom faded, as the light engulfed it all.

"Elbereth!" he cried in awe.

"Rise, oh Elvenking", called to him the sweetest female voice he had ever heard. "For we are not cruel, and we acknowledge your pain and her sacrifice. No child of Iluvatar should ever suffer so".

"Elbereth Gilthoniel, is that you?" he whispered in reverence.

The clouds parted then and a female face took shape, brilliant and beautiful like the morning dew. He thought that she smiled at him, and tears of humility and regret streamed down his face unbeknownst to him.

"We offer you a chance to be joined with your beloved in the Undying Lands. Will you take it? Will you forsake this world forever?" she asked.

He could scarcely believe his ears. "Is this a dream? Elbereth, am I dreaming awake?"

"It is not a dream".

It was Elbereth indeed, and she was offering him a chance to be with Tauriel forever. She called to him to let go of the mortal world and all he knew, and join her in Valinor, where there were no sorrows and no death. His thoughts turned to his son. _Legolas… will you forgive me, if I leave you? Will you resent me for choosing to be with her? Will you feel alone and abandoned, my only child, child of my heart?_

"Father", Legolas' soft voice was heard then.

Thranduil turned to behold him, and the young ellon was smiling. "Legolas", he whispered.

"I know what it is you wish for. Take this chance, for there will not be another, I fear. You deserve to be free of pain, at last. I know how you mourned my mother for endless eons, and I know how much you came to love Tauriel. I could never begrudge you your love. And fear not for me. I am not a child anymore. I have my own path to discover. But you have reached the end of your own road. It is time you found peace, at last", he spoke soothingly.

"My son, my beloved child", cried the Elvenking, and, after carefully laying Tauriel's body down, he extended his arms towards him. Legolas walked into his father's embrace, and wept. "My kingdom is yours now, my crown is yours to bear. The duties are many, and the responsibility is heavy; but I know you will be a far better King than I was", he murmured lovingly.

Legolas smiled. "I doubt that, for a better King than you I have known not". He stood then and retreated. "Farewell, father. We shall meet again one day, when the time is right, and when all battles on Middle Earth have been fought and won".

"Farewell, my beloved child. If only we had not lost so many years to bitterness and estrangement…" he sighed.

"All is forgiven and forgotten. Go now; do not miss this chance".

Legolas was gone, and Thranduil looked to the skies again. There was the smiling face of Elbereth. "Are you ready now, Elvenking? Are you ready to depart?"

"I am".

The intensity of her light grew blinding then, and soon he could see nothing but a boundless, unending white. How much time passed before he was able to see again he could not tell, and he was not sure time had meaning anymore either. He opened his eyes to find himself upon grass on a shore. In his arms was Tauriel, her body still, but her cheeks seemed rosy, and her chest rose and fell with breath. "She lives!" he gasped in astonishment.

His voice roused her, and her eyelids fluttered open. "Thranduil?" she asked hoarsely, as if from slumber, when she saw his face hovering above hers. "How long have I been sleeping?"

She made to sit up then, and he let her, supporting her back gently. "Tauriel, Tauriel, my beloved…" he whispered. "You are back! You have come back to me!"

She lifted and eyebrow and gave him a strange look. "When was I gone?"

 _She does not remember. We are in Valinor, and all dreadful memories are cured. But how can it be that I remember everything?_

" _It is the choice of the Valar",_ Elbereth's voice spoke in his thoughts. _"So that you may never forget our gift to you, and cherish this chance you have been given"._

He closed his eyes and inwardly accepted their decision. He had Tauriel again. The burden of his memories was a small price to pay.

"Well?"

Her impatience brought him out of his reverie. "We are in Valinor, beloved. Look around you", he prompted her.

She stood to her feet. Before her was the great sea, its luminous foamy waves caressing the white shores of the land. Above them the sky was blue and cloudless, and the sun shone brightly. To the west were the green pastures of Aman, and tall, golden trees rose in the distance. "Are these mellyrn?" she wondered. Thranduil nodded. "But they are huge! The mellyrn of Lorien were shorter…"

"I am glad you have retained your fond memories, meleth nin. Yes, the golden trees are larger here, and more magnificent. Is this not a wonderful place to live?" he asked her.

She smiled and looked at him, but then her face became more serious. "But since we are here, does it mean we have died? I do not remember sailing…"

He sighed, and drew her into his arms. "The sorrows of the past have no place here. We are granted a life together, and for that I am grateful."

Tauriel then gently touched his cheek. "I do not care if I died a thousand deaths, since I am now here with you, in this blessed land".

He took her hands in his then, and slowly bent and kissed her lips. How much he had missed kissing her lips! His heart fluttered when she kissed him back, and their arms twined in a warm embrace.

When a while later they broke the kiss to gaze into each other's eyes, Tauriel spoke. "Well then, where are we to live on this grand island?"

"We will go where our hearts desire", Thranduil replied.

And he took her by the hand and led her north, until they found the stone-paved path. "We can go to Alqualonde, where the Teleri live, or even to Valmar. We will see the houses of the Valar, and even the Hall of Mandos…" he said.

"Is not Lothrin there, in the Halls of Mandos?"

He paused then in his step. "Yes…"

"We should go there, Thranduil. You may have a chance to see her", Tauriel said. He looked deep into her emerald eyes, and though his heart was afraid, he assented.

For three days and three nights they journeyed, until at last they reached the Halls of Mandos in the grand forest that surrounded them. Tall pillars of veined marble were around them, and the entrance was not barred by doors. As Thranduil and Tauriel walked beneath the great arches, they noticed that absolute silence reigned. The air was still, and only at times the distant weeping of Nienna would pierce the veil of silence. The domes of the Halls were many, and all were open, so that light might enter. Nowhere was darkness to be encountered, and the place, though still and silent, was not gloomy or foreboding. It inspired a sense of sanctity and reverence.

"We tread on hallowed grounds…" murmured Tauriel in awe.

And then the great Mandos appeared before them, clad in long, dark robes, and his face was solemn and majestic. "Whom do you seek?" he asked, and his voice echoed in the vast Halls.

The elves bowed deeply before him. "I seek Lothrin, my wife in life, oh great Mandos", replied the Elvenking.

"There she is, resting eternally, and free of sorrow", the Vala said, and pointed towards the sill of a window beneath an arch. And then he was gone from their eyes.

The pair walked there, and the white lady was perched atop the sill, her hair flowing like a waterfall down her back, and she was crowned with little red flowers. When she sensed them approaching, she turned her deep blue eyes to them, and when she saw her husband, tears rolled down her cheeks. "Thranduil, my heart…" she whispered. "You have found peace, at last. You have found love, as I have prayed for you for so long".

Her voice was mellow and rich with emotion. The Elvenking fell to his knees before her and made to take her hands in his and kiss her, but it was only thin air he clutched. Confused, he raised his eyes to her. "Lothrin? I do not understand…"

She smiled. "I am weak, so weak… I am but a shade, a sliver of what I once was… And much of my light I sacrificed to lead Tauriel towards you, when she was in her deep slumber. Mandos keeps me here protected, all that is left of me. But I cannot leave his Halls, and neither can I touch anyone. I am but a shadow, Thranduil…"

Tears streamed down his cheeks once more. "You fate has been cruel, my dearest Lothrin… To find you, and never to have you…"

But she smiled again. "Weep not, beloved. We have shared a lifetime, and for that my heart will forever be grateful. And we have birthed a beautiful son, who is far better than we are, and destined for great things".

"Legolas… He loves you so much".

"And I love him. As I love you. All I ever wished for was your happiness. And she is standing behind you. Tauriel, come forth. At last I meet you not in dream, but in life", Lothrin said smoothly.

Tauriel walked to her with a measure of reluctance. This was Thranduil's wife, the white lady of her dreams, and she felt small and awed before her. "My lady… I owe you my gratitude".

She shook her head. "I know that you love Thranduil truly. You have my blessing to share this love, for I know he has so much love to give. And here in Valinor you may share this love forever, undisturbed from the sorrows and pains of the world".

"But my lady… Are you not saddened that you have been robbed of this love?" Tauriel dared ask.

Lothrin sighed. "It is the nature of this place to take away one's sorrows. My heart is content to know that my husband is loved truly, as truly as I loved him. I have since long accepted my fate, and there is no sorrow in my heart".

"My lady…" Tauriel knelt before her, feeling humbled. She knew she could never be as magnanimous as her, and she felt eternally grateful for her blessing.

"Go now", she urged them. "This place is not for those of body and soul, but only for us shades of those who once were. But if ever you wish to visit me again, I shall be here and wait for you with gladness".

"Lothrin", cried Thranduil. "I love you. I always will".

"I know, my heart, I know. But it is time to give your love to the elleth beside you, who yearns for you. Remember me with fondness, and cherish this chance you are given here by the wise and benevolent Valar", she told him, and then turned her eyes to the window again. There was a white tree in the distance, and its read flowers swayed with the wind.

Thranduil found it extremely difficult to turn from her, and Tauriel had to take his hand and lead him away from the Halls of Mandos. He was sorrowful for a time, for the love for his wife would never die in his heart. But soon Tauriel's love healed his heart, and light returned to his life. For in her he found all he had lost, and after a time there was no place for sorrow in his heart, but only joy. For Valinor was a land of peace and eternity, and sadness did not linger.

They settled in Alqualonde, for they both found that they loved the view of the ocean and the sound of the waves, and the cries of the white gulls in the morning. And often they would go for long strolls on the shore, holding hands and sharing their love.

"I wish we have had the chance to have a child", Tauriel told Thranduil one day.

"I would have liked that too. But I do not think such things are possible here. It seems as though life is still here, in a sense. There is a constant harmony, but nothing moves forward… You cannot grow old, you cannot die… But you cannot marry or have children either. It is as if you enter a certain state and live in it forever in bliss", he mused.

"Yes… Well, I do not mind that bliss. In fact, I have never felt so peaceful in all my life", she confessed.

"I understand… It is the same for me".

He bent then and kissed her lips, and the light ocean breeze ruffled their hair as they embraced, and the afternoon sun shone upon them and warmed their skin and their hearts. He drew her close and she clung to him, and they never wished to be parted. And they never had to be parted, for in Valinor love reigned and persevered.

"I love you, Thranduil. I love you with all my heart", she whispered to him, and her eyes glowed.

"And I love you for all eternity, Tauriel, and beyond", he told her, and kissed her again.

And so passed the days of Thranduil and Tauriel, and so would they pass for time untold, until the grand day of Dagor Dagorath would at last come, when all would awaken to join in one last battle against evil, and then Arda would be shaped anew, without sorrow or pain woven into its fate.


End file.
